Meera Kapoor's life had become a fever dream of denial and surrender. The days following the biology lab "lesson" dragged in agonizing slow motion, each one laced with Rohan's calculated teasing—brushing past her in crowded corridors, his fingers grazing the curve of her big ass under her saree just long enough to make her gasp softly; whispered commands during class like "Spread your legs under the desk, teacher—let that married pussy drip for me"; or anonymous notes slipped into her purse: "Think of my cum breeding you while you sit next to your cold husband tonight." The constant edge kept her in a state of perpetual, throbbing arousal—her shaved pink folds swollen and slick from dawn to dusk, nipples stiffening painfully against her blouses at the slightest breeze, fresh nectar soaking her panties (when she was allowed to wear them) until they clung transparently to her puffy lips.
Vikram noticed nothing, his evenings spent in silent grading, his touches rare and perfunctory, leaving Meera to finger herself frantically in the shower—plunging three digits deep into her aching cunt, curling to hit that spongy spot Rohan battered so ruthlessly, biting her lip bloody to stifle moans of his name. The guilt gnawed, but the craving won every time; she'd edge for hours, denying release until tears streamed, only climaxing with visions of Rohan's possessive grip choking her breath as he flooded her womb again.
Thursday brought the breaking point. Rohan's text during lunch: "Library after final bell. Top floor stacks—poetry section. Wear the black saree, no blouse underneath the pallu. Bring a scarf for your eyes." Meera's pulse thundered, thighs clenching under the staff table as a gush of creamy arousal ruined her panties anew. The risk terrified her—the school library stayed open late for seniors, quiet but never empty, the hum of studying students a constant threat. Yet she obeyed, changing in her car: the sheer black saree draping loosely over her bare massive breasts beneath the pallu, dark nipples tenting the fabric visibly if light hit right, her thick thighs rubbing slickly together panty-less, pussy lips already parted and leaking in anticipation.
The library's top floor was dimly lit as evening fell, the air cool and heavy with the musty scent of aged paper, leather bindings, and faint dust motes dancing in slanted window light. Tall stacks loomed like silent sentinels, narrow aisles creating intimate shadows, the distant murmur of pages turning and occasional coughs from lower floors heightening the forbidden thrill. Rohan waited in the secluded poetry corner, leaning against a shelf with arms crossed, his uniform tie loosened, shirt hugging his broad chest, dark eyes burning with yandere possession as he drank in her approach—the sway of her wide hips, the subtle bounce of her unrestrained heavy tits.
"You came, good girl," he murmured low, voice a velvet command that sent shivers down her spine. He stepped close slowly, building the tension—fingers tracing the edge of her pallu without pulling it yet, breath hot on her neck as he circled her like prey. "Obedient married slut... dripping already, aren't you? Missing your student's cock owning this cheating body."
Meera whimpered softly, nodding as his hand slipped under her pallu—cupping one massive breast fully, thumb circling her stiff nipple slowly, pinching just hard enough to make her gasp, fresh nectar trickling down her inner thigh. The slow worship dragged on: he kneaded her heavy tits reverently yet roughly, rolling nipples between fingers until they ached throbbingly, praising huskily, "These perfect udders—made for my hands, not his," mixed with degradation: "Look how hard they get for a boy half your husband's age, you filthy cougar."
He blindfolded her next with her own scarf—soft silk plunging her into darkness, heightening every sense: the rustle of books nearby, distant footsteps on stairs making her heart race with exhibitionist fear, his cologne overwhelming as he pinned her gently against a shelf, books digging into her back. Restraints followed—his belt looping her wrists loosely to a high shelf rung above, arching her chest obscenely, saree pallu slipping to expose her bare breasts fully to the cool air, nipples pebbling tighter.
Rohan dropped to his knees slowly, worshipping her thick thighs—kissing and licking up the trails of her leaking juices, tongue broad and teasing along her golden skin until he reached her dripping pink cunt. "Spread wider, teacher," he commanded, hands parting her legs as he buried his face—tongue delving deep into her sopping hole first, lapping her creamy nectar with obscene slurps that echoed softly in the stacks. Then face-sitting in reverse: he pulled her down to straddle his mouth on the carpeted floor, her bound hands gripping the shelf for balance as he devoured her—sucking her engorged clit hard, tongue-fucking relentlessly while choking her thighs lightly with his grip, her big ass smothering him as she ground desperately.
Meera's moans built muffled and slutty—"Ahh... yes, eat your teacher's pussy... oh god deeper!"—multiple orgasms ripping through her slowly: first a shuddering wave squirting hot jets into his greedy mouth; then overstimulation as he didn't stop, sucking her oversensitive clit until she convulsed again, tears soaking the blindfold, body trembling in the risky silence.
Only then did he stand, freeing his thick veiny cock—rubbing the swollen, precum-leaking head along her slick folds in torturous circles, teasing entry without penetrating, building unbearable tension as distant voices echoed from below. "Beg for it, good girl. Beg me to breed you—tell me you're mine, not his."
"Please... own me, Rohan—fuck your married slut, fill me up, breed me better than he ever could!" Meera sobbed desperately, hips bucking.
He slammed in rough—pinning her against the shelf with hair-pulling to arch her, choking her throat lightly as he pounded with endless stamina: deep, grinding thrusts escalating to brutal slams, wet fleshy slaps muffled by books, his heavy balls smacking her clit relentlessly. Multiple rounds blurred—pulling out to deepthroat her sloppily, her gags wet and saliva-dripping down her tits; then wall-pinning her legs around his waist for deeper breeding angles, choking rhythmically as she squirted overstimmed floods down his shaft.
"Take my seed, cougar—swell with my baby, leave that pathetic husband," he growled yandere-obsessively, possessiveness peaking.
Final climax shattered them: her cunt spasming in endless milking waves, squirting violently as overstimulation broke her; his cock pulsing thick, scalding ropes deep into her womb—breeding her with potent loads until cum overflowed creamy down her thighs.
He untied her tenderly after, body worship lingering—kissing her choked neck, sucking hickeys on her tits as she leaked his seed onto the library carpet. "You're mine forever now, teacher," he whispered possessively. "Next time... I'll make you say it in front of him."
Meera staggered home blindfold-removed, cum trailing warmly, the netori complete—her body, heart, and womb claimed irrevocably by her obsessive student lover. Resistance was fantasy now; only surrender remained.