The narrow hallway of Monika's house stretched before Abir as he followed Isha toward the washroom, her slow, hesitant steps echoing softly against the wooden floor. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to her swaying hips, her curvaceous figure accentuated by a fitted green kurta that hugged her slender waist and flared out over her rounded butt, each step a tantalizing tease that fueled his lingering arousal from the earlier encounter with Monika. The dim light from a wall sconce cast gentle shadows, heightening the intimate tension as Isha glanced back, her long, wavy hair brushing her shoulders. She broke the silence, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "You two always do it like that?"
Abir feigned ignorance, his mind racing to maintain the pretense. "Do what?" he asked, his tone casual yet edged with curiosity.
Isha stopped, turning to face him, her hazel eyes narrowing with a mix of accusation and embarrassment. "You know, what you two did in the washroom," she said, her cheeks flushing a deep pink.
"What did we do?" Abir pressed, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he tested her resolve.
Isha's frustration flared, and she crossed her arms, her voice firm despite her blush. "Don't pretend you don't understand. I saw you two doing that earlier in the washroom." Her admission hung in the air, her gaze darting to the floor before meeting his again.
Abir closed the distance, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "Do what exactly?" His proximity sent a shiver through her, her body tensing as he pressed the advantage.
Isha's voice dropped to a shaky whisper, her lips trembling. "You put your thing inside her and…" Her words faltered, her eyes widening as Abir, emboldened, pulled out his aroused manhood, the thick length pulsing with need. "This thing?" he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips.
Isha's gaze locked onto it, her breath catching as she nodded. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Where did I put it on her?" Abir whispered. She whispered, "I don't remember." His hand sliding to her waist, pulling her closer with sudden force. His erection pressed between her thighs, the tip brushing against the heat of her pussy through the thin fabric of her kurta, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.
Isha's resistance melted, her whisper laced with desire. "Should I put it into where you can remember?" Abir whispered.
"I think you should," she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut as the tension snapped.
Abir's lips crashed onto hers, the kiss deep and passionate, his tongue invading her mouth with a hungry fervor, tasting the sweetness of her breath as she moaned softly into him, "Mmm, Abir." His hands roamed with urgency, tugging at her kurta to reveal her figure—a lithe yet curvaceous form with full, perky breasts that strained against a lacy bra, a narrow waist flaring into rounded hips, and long, toned legs that trembled under his touch. He peeled the kurta over her head, the bra following with a quick snap, exposing her pale, sweat-slicked skin. His mouth descended to her breasts, sucking one nipple with slow, deliberate pulls, his tongue circling the hardened peak before biting gently, then moving to the other, squeezing both with rough hands as she arched into him, moaning loudly, "Ohh, yes!"
He slid her pants and panties down, the fabric pooling at her ankles, revealing the damp heat between her thighs. Leaning close, he whispered, "Should I be gentle with you?" His voice was a low growl, his arousal evident.
Isha's eyes flashed with defiance, her whisper bold. "You think I can't handle you like Monika can?"
"Let's find out then," Abir replied, his grin predatory as he pushed her against the wall. He lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist, thrusting with deep, brutal strokes, each one a violent plunge that made her cry out—"Ahh, Abir!"—her breasts bouncing, her first breaking point hitting with eyes rolling back, a scream echoing as her body shuddered.
Bending her over the sink, he entered from behind, twisting his hips with each fast thrust, her moans turning to wild cries—"Ohhh, yes, deeper!"—her second climax a trembling wail, eyes lost in ecstasy.
On the floor, he rolled her onto her side, lifting one leg high, thrusting with savage depth, her third breaking point a guttural scream, her nails digging into the tiles.
Pressing her against the door frame, he held her arms above her head, pounding with relentless force, her fourth climax a hoarse shout, eyes rolling back, sweat dripping.
Lifting her into an arch, her back bent, he thrust upward with brutal speed, her fifth breaking point a desperate cry, her body convulsing.
On the counter, he bound her wrists with her kurta, fucking her with grinding intensity, her sixth climax a sobbing moan, eyes fluttering.
Holding her against the ceiling, he thrust with punishing depth, her seventh breaking point a piercing scream, her legs giving way.
Isha's moans peaked, a clear sign of her breaking point, her body trembling on the edge of collapse. Abir, sensing her limit, pulled back slightly, his voice husky. "Ride me," he commanded, guiding her onto his lap as he sat on the floor. Isha, her breath ragged, straddled him, her hips moving with a desperate rhythm, her moans soft yet fervent—"Mmm, Abir, yes!"—her breasts swaying with each thrust, her hands on his chest for balance.
Abir's hands clamped onto her hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh with bruising intensity, guiding her down to meet his relentless upward thrusts. Each plunge was a brutal invasion, his thick length driving deep into her core with a fast, savage rhythm, the wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh reverberating through the hallway like a primal drumbeat. Isha's moans escalated, her voice breaking with each deep thrust—"Ohh, yes! Abir, harder!"—her inner walls clenching tightly around him, her body trembling as the intensity built. He increased the pace, his hips snapping up with hardcore precision, each fast thrust a violent claim that stretched her limits, her screams rising to a desperate pitch—"Ahhh! It's too much!"—her eyes rolling back in her head, her pupils dilating as her first climax crashed over her, a flood of warm juices soaking him, her body convulsing in violent waves of ecstasy, her thighs quaking uncontrollably.
But Abir didn't relent, his desire a raging inferno, his thrusts maintaining their brutal depth and speed, each one a forceful penetration that made her scream louder, her nails raking red trails across his chest, drawing beads of blood. Isha's moans turned into a symphony of desperation and bliss—"Abir, oh god, yes! Don't stop!"—her hips grinding down to meet him, the hallway mirror reflecting the erotic spectacle of her bouncing breasts, sweat-slicked skin, and quaking thighs.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the haze, smooth and teasing. "So this is your urgent washroom visit with Abir?" Monika's silhouette filled the doorway, her evil smile gleaming as she leaned against the frame, her fresh t-shirt clinging to her curves.
Isha startled, her eyes widening in shock, her movements faltering, but Abir's thrusts didn't pause, His hands gripping her hips, holding her firmly in place as he drove upward with renewed vigor. Isha, caught in the throes of pleasure, gasped between moans, "Why should… Ahh… only you… Ahh… get to enjoy this… Ahhhh… Monika?"
Monika stepped closer, her grin widening. "Yes, let's enjoy it together, Isha. What do you say, Abir?"
Abir, his voice strained with exertion, grinned up at her. "More the merrier," he growled, his thrusts unrelenting as the room filled with the promise of a new escalation.