I would like to talk about myself. My name is Kashish, and I am 5’5″ tall, with an hourglass figure, perky boobs, a round ass, a small waist, and fair skin. I look a lot like Gatri Bhardwaj from ‘Highway Love’.
What differentiates me from most girls is that I like being in the center of attention. I like it when men ogle me with their eyes, and I love it when other girls’ boyfriends or husbands hit on me and make a move on me. Most importantly, I enjoy sex. I believe there is no greater feeling than making love, having sex, or fucking.
I was born and raised in an orthodox family in Punjab. I had very little freedom growing up, so for my graduation, I decided to move to Mumbai, away from my family and all the restrictions and boundaries. There, I met my first boyfriend, Ajay, and we had a 1.5-year relationship. At an event, I met a bad boy, a fuck boy, named Arif. He instantly recognized my deep desires, my agony, and my lust, and he used it against me. I cheated on my boyfriend with him, and gradually, I consented to everything he asked for, but that’s a story for another time. I have so many experiences that it would take a lifetime to write them down. This is the story of how a 50-year-old guy enjoyed my body.
This incident happened in 2019 when I was 23 years old:
Arif called me and told me that his cousin’s flat was empty, and he was going away with his mother, while his dad would be at his shop. He said that instead of booking an OYO room, we could meet there and spend 4-5 hours. I agreed, not because I wanted to have sex with him, but because after two years with Arif, I couldn’t say no to him anymore.
With me, it’s not like any other love-making session. I need thrill, I need mystery, and I need the feeling that anything can happen. In my mind, I’m always expecting more – a threesome, a foursome, a love-making session with a girl. With me, there’s no limit, but I won’t consent to it easily. I want to show myself as a good girl, but deep down, I want all of this, and Arif knew it pretty well. That’s how he fucked me in unimaginable ways.
It was a sunny, warm day. I wore a skirt (Stylecast X Kotty – Navy Blue Flared) that exposed my long, white legs, and a loose top (Solid Ribbed Round Neck Loose Fit Casual Top) that was easy to remove and wear with white shoes. I booked an auto to the location, and Arif arrived early. Fortunately, the security guard didn’t ask me much, and I gave him a random name and number. The flat was on the 6th floor, room number 606, a corner flat with the gate at the end of a passage and no adjacent flat.
I pressed the bell, and Arif opened the gate, saying, “You know the rules to enter the room.” He blocked the gate with his hands and took my purse from me.
Me: “Please don’t do this here; we’ll be in huge trouble if someone catches us.”
Arif: “Don’t worry about it; it’s 11 am in the morning. All men are in the office or at work, and their wives are having fun with their lovers.” He giggled after saying it. “Besides, I can see if anyone is coming; the passage is clear.”
Me: “Alright, but I won’t do the bottom.”
I stepped closer to the gate, removed my top with my right hand, and was only in my bra and skirt. My 34D breasts were about to pop out in my padded bra, revealing my cleavage.
Me: “Bus, please let me in now, or I’ll go.”
Arif: Took my top from my hand and threw it in the room, and blocked the gate from his hand, and said, “Everything.”
Me: “You’re such a bad boy,” and I unhooked my bra and removed it. I quickly covered my boobs with my hands. (I covered them because I wanted to show him that I’m afraid, I’m docile, I’m still thinking about what society will say, but deep down, I wanted to remove all my clothes, stand naked on the door, and have people watch me.)
Arif: “You’re a good girl, obedient like a good bitch. I’m going to fuck you like a bull today, and I came prepared with my magic pill, so be prepared for a fuck session of 3 hours.”
Just by listening to him, I was wet. In my mind, I was removing my skirt, dropping it on the gate, and bending down to suck his dick, his big, fat 7-inch dick. I wanted him to shove it down my throat and drink his cum, right there on the gate, hoping someone would catch me and punish me more.
Me: “Will you let me in now? It’s almost half; do you want the whole floor to fuck me?”
Arif: “You may enter now, bitch.” (He said “bitch,” just “bitch,”; no, no, no, no, no! I’m not his bitch, I’m his slave, his bondservant, and he’s my owner.)
I entered the room, removed my hand from my perky boobs, revealed my small, pinkish nipple, and he threw my clothes closed in the hall and grabbed me from my waist, touching my naked back.
Without wasting a second, he removed his t-shirt and hugged me tightly; my boobs were pressing hard against his hairy chest. He leaned and kissed me on the lips; I kissed him back. We kissed passionately; his left hand was all over my naked back, and his right hand was in my hair, pulling it sensually. He was sucking my lower lip, pushing his tongue in my mouth, and licking my tongue; our tongues were bathing in each other’s saliva.
He bent down and pulled my skirt down, then gently removed my panty; he could easily see the pre-cum on my panty. He gently pushed his finger in my pussy and twirled his finger; I screamed a soft moan, “Aaah.” Then he spread my legs and pushed his tongue in, starting to twirl it, licking the juices flowing from down below.
To some girls, this is the supreme feeling, but to me, the pinnacle of feelings emerges when I’m in doggy style, laying over a guy, taking his dick in my pussy, another guy’s dick in my ass, and one dick in my mouth, and one dick in my left hand. I like it when guys own me, show me my place, humiliate me, and degrade my body. My absolute feeling is a cum shower; I want guys to use me and then shower their cum on me one by one until my whole body is covered with their seed.
Me: “Shall we continue this in the room?”
Arif: “No, I’m going to fuck you in the hall, curtains open. I hope someone gets to watch this.”
Me: “Please don’t open the curtains; the buildings are 15 stories tall, and someone can easily see it.”
Arif: “That’s what I want, baby; I want everyone to see your beautiful body. You are made for our pleasure; you should stand naked in front of every guy and let them fuck you because you are made to be fucked.”
Me: “Baby, listen!”
Arif: “Don’t call me baby; call me daddy. Now, remove your shoes and lie on that sofa.”
The sofa was next to a big window, and the curtain was open; anyone from the opposite side with a good camera could see what’s happening or with binoculars.
I removed my shoes and placed them next to my clothes (my skirt, top, bra, panty, and my purse). I was fully naked from head to toe, no piece of cloth on me, standing in a stranger’s home. I could see their family photo, Arif’s cousin Abeed (another fuck boy), his father (a big guy, almost 5’11” with a hairy beard, looking like an angry man). I could see Arif’s cousin sister Fazia; I knew her secrets, how bad and beautiful she is.
Arif: “What are you thinking? Lie down on the sofa in doggy style; my magic has started working. I don’t want to waste any moment; lie down and spread your legs like a good bitch.”
He removed his clothes, tossed his jeans and shoes, and stroked his dick gently with his left hand. His 7-inch-thick dick – I have seen this dick hundreds of times, licked it, sucked it, drank its cum, his semen, his seed; God knows how many times.
Me: “Daddy! Aren’t you forgetting something, our ritual? Please take out my phone from my purse.”
Arif: “Aah, how can I forget that? I thought we would start once you’re on the sofa. But never mind.”
He picked up my phone and started clicking my photos. I tried to cover my face and my pussy; after two years, I’m now an expert in giving naked poses. I knelt down, took out my tongue, and looked at him for mercy; he clicked, posing his dick on my face, like he’s showering his cum on my tongue or his golden piss.
Arif: “You know what I want to do; I want to take you to my village home, tie you to a bed, fuck you, and let my whole family fuck you until you’re old, unfuckable, undesirable. I’ll use you just for my lust and let anyone have you; you know why – because this is what you are, a fuck doll, made to be fucked.”
“Made for fuck, made to be fucked” – these words resonated with my soul, with my body; I wanted to say yes, but I knew if I said yes, he would make it happen, and there’s nothing I could do to stop him.
Suddenly, his phone rang; Abeed called him.
Arif: “Hey, bhai, what’s up?”
I could barely hear Abeed talking, but I understood the conversation.
Abeed: “Chodna chalu kar dia use?” (Have you started fucking her?)
Arif: “Nahi bhai, abhi to photo session chel rha hai bus 2 min bad start kar dunga.” (I’m doing a photo session; I’ll start in 2 minutes.)
Abeed: “Maal hai saali, mera bhi bhot mann tha, photo bejhna aur video bhi, time pass ho jaega mera.” (She’s hot; I also really wanted to fuck her; send her photos and videos; it will help me pass the time.)
Arif: “You should have been here, just like last time.” He screamed, “Aahhh!”
He looked down, and I was on my knees, sucking his dick, taking his 7-inch, foreskin-less dick in my mouth. I was rolling my tongue over his head, sucking it from head to balls, licking it, and pushing the tip of my tongue in his meatus (the opening to the outside of the urethra).
Abeed: “What happened?”
Arif: “Kuch nahi, lund chus rahi hai mera jor se. Nangi ho kar ghutno par beth kar.” (Nothing; she’s sucking my dick, on her knees, naked.)
Abeed: “Randi hai sali ye to, isko gaun le chalo vanha bed par band dena, fir sare bhai mil kr chodenge mazza aaega.” (She’s a whore; let’s take her to our village, tie her to the bed, and let all our cousin brothers fuck her.)
When I listened to his words, I could sense that Arif was planning something; otherwise, Abeed wouldn’t have said it. I got this feeling that he’s cooking something. I felt a huge wave of inexplicable feelings; I felt high, horny, and scared all at once.
Arif: “Haha, sure, don’t worry; I know she will do it willingly. We’ll talk later.” (He disconnected the call.)
He looked down and said, “Wait, keep your head still; it’s time to fuck your face.”
He placed both his hands on my face, positioned himself, and started stroking his dick in my mouth; his thick dick was going deep, his pre-cum mixing with my saliva, that salty taste of heaven in my mouth. I let go of all control and let him deep-throat me.
The reason he liked me so much is that I don’t have a gag reflex; I don’t choke on dick; it never happened with me. I can take a 9-inch whole dick and keep it in my mouth; he called it my superpower.
He stopped, went into the kitchen, came back with a half-liter Amul milk packet, gulped down a little milk, and looked at me; I knew what I needed to do.
I lay down on the floor, keeping my whole body exposed, my hands over my head, fingers interlinked with each other, and my toes touching the floor. He started dropping the milk on my body, a few drops on my boobs, a few on my flat stomach, and a few on my pussy. He bent down and started sucking my boobs; his tongue was rolling over my pink nipple, like he was licking it for the first time; his lips sucked them hard, sucking each drop of milk from my boobs. He licked both for a few minutes, then gently moved down to my navel, then to my pussy. He was drinking the milk from my pussy; his lips were flowing over my wet pussy. He always says that this is a “hoor ki pussy” (pussy of an angel) because it’s dark pink, not black, not brown, but dark pink.
After a few minutes, I stood up, went to the sofa, positioned myself in doggy style, and waited; I waited for his dick to enter my dripping wet pussy.
Me: “Condom laae ho?” (Did you bring the condom?)
Arif: “No, and it’s too late to wear one.” (He shoved his dick in my pussy.)
“Aaaahh!!” I screamed.
Me: “Slowly, please.”
Arif: “Laughed.”
He slapped my ass a couple of times and started riding me; I was on the sofa, screaming like a bitch, “Aaah, aaah, aaah,” with each stroke. He grabbed my hair and started fucking me like he was riding a horse. I was facing the window, looking at the reflection and all the buildings out there, wondering if someone was watching me with a camera or binoculars. With each stroke, his dick was going deeper; his raw meat was inside my pussy; I never liked condoms, but like a good bitch, I always ask, why – because men like power; if you take that away from them, they’ll feel helpless.
It was almost 1 pm on the clock; he was fucking me for the last 30 minutes in the same position; my thigh was in pain, my legs were hurting, but I was still enjoying it – dopamine hitting my brain; I was on cloud 9. This is the moment when I would say yes to anything – two guys, three guys, a gangbang, even sucking my own dad.
Arif: “It’s time to take a bath; let me check the shower.”
I had my orgasm already; my pussy was wet, and I was about to cum for the second time; I didn’t want him to stop; I wanted to say, “Fuck me till my last breath,” but instead, I said:
Me: “Wait; you should finish up this milk or it will go bad.”
Arif (with a sly smile): “Why don’t you pour it on you? I’ll lick you dry.”
He left; I picked up the packet and poured it on my boobs; a few drops fell down on the floor. I wondered if he would drop his cum on the floor and ask me to lick it from there; if he would, I would lick the milk as well.
I was facing the gate, leaned over the sofa corner, and closed my eyes. I started massaging my boobs; I was in the zone, in that moment where dopamine was hitting my brain; I felt like I was drunk, and I knew I would say yes to anything.
Suddenly, I heard a metal sound outside; before I could figure it out, someone opened the gate. It was Abeed’s father; he was supposed to come at 5 pm, but he came early from his shop. I thought, “Was it a setup? Was it all his plan to let Abeed’s father fuck me, to barge in at the right moment, where I’m most vulnerable?”
All the feelings rushed in; I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak; I was standing like a statue; I never thought something like this could happen. I tried to cover my pussy and my boobs, but barely managed to do that. A strange man was watching me naked, milk all over my body; I was in his home, where he eats, sleeps, and fucks – most importantly, he fucks.
Suddenly, my eyes looked down toward his dick; I imagined he was going to fuck me now, because this is his home, his property, and with that logic, I’m his servant; I couldn’t say no to him; I must obey, make him happy. I had no control over my emotions or my body; it was like time had stopped.
Abeed’s dad, Mohammad Qureshi (I’ll call him MDQ), owns a meat shop in Bandra West. He had a thick beard, no mustache, and was 5’11” – almost 6 feet tall, a big guy, but old. He looked around 45, with a big torso and a hairy chest.
MDQ: “Who are you, and what are you doing in my home? How did you enter?”
I didn’t say anything; I couldn’t speak; my legs were shivering.
MDQ: “Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my home? How did you enter?”
This time, he slowly walked toward me, and I couldn’t back down because I was leaning over the sofa. He screamed again, “Speak!”
I was wondering where the fuck Arif was, what the hell he was doing in the shower. Suddenly, I heard a voice:
Arif: “She’s with me, Chacha Jaan.” (He spoke quietly, standing there in a towel.)
MDQ: “Bhenchod, what the fuck are you doing here?” (with anger on his face.)
What he said next changed everything; sometimes I wish he said something else, but sometimes I’m glad he said it because, in a way, what he was saying was true.
Arif: “Ye randi hai, regular hai meri. Abeed ne bola ki aaj ghar par koi nahi aur dusri chabi de di mujhe, to main le aya ise yanha par, Abeed bhi janta hai ise.” (She’s a prostitute, my regular. Abeed told me there’s no one home, he gave a spare key, and I came here with her. Abeed knows her.)
He calmed down a little, stared at me for at least 30 seconds, didn’t say anything; I was standing there naked, barely covering myself.
Arif: “I have no idea you’d come early, and she’s a little costly, and I already did the payment for myself and Abeed, so I didn’t have money for an OYO room.”
MDQ: “Abeed also was supposed to fuck her?”
Arif: “Yes, but he had to go with chachi instead. Please chachu, don’t tell anyone.”
MDQ to me: “What he’s saying, is it true? Tell me the truth.”
I could say a million things; I could have walked, picked up my clothes, and run to the bathroom. I could have said that he’s lying, and I’m his girlfriend or friend with benefits, not a randi. But what did I say?
Me: “Yes, he’s telling the truth.” (I removed my hands from my boobs, I just covered my pussy; he was watching me, staring at me without winking; deep down, I realized what he was thinking, what he wants – his lust was clearly visible on his face.)
Please let me know if you’d like me to continue with part 2.