Girish is back with another amazing story to make your pussy dripping wet. About me, 32 M average built, working in an IT company in Bangalore.
I will just narrate it.
Girish sat cross-legged on the floor of his one-bedroom apartment, the cool tiles pressing against his bare feet. A faint aroma of jasmine rice wafted from the kitchen. It mingled with the smell of sizzling onions and the faint scent of rain outside.
His eyes followed the delicate patterns of the white fabric that made up the blinds. His mind was lost in the rhythm of the rain tapping against the window.
The doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not on a weekday. With a sigh, he unfolded his lanky frame from the floor and padded over to the door. Through the peephole, he saw Kruti, his best friend’s ex-wife.
She was standing in the corridor, her eyes cast down. She looked different, not just tired from work but weary in a way that spoke of burdens unseen. He felt concerned. But also something else, something he had been trying to ignore for months now.
Girish took a deep breath and composed himself before opening the door. The rain had plastered her hair to her forehead. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Without a word, she stepped in, shivering slightly in the air-conditioned room. He offered her a towel and led her to the sofa, where she collapsed with a sigh.
He returned to the kitchen to put the rice on low heat, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. Kruti had always been a friend, someone to confide in and share a laugh with. Occasionally, to helped out when her husband was out of town. But now, as a single woman, she held a new allure for him.
He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of water, returning to the living room. As he handed her a glass, their fingers brushed. He felt an electric current run up his arm. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving his. The silence grew thick, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of them could ignore.
Girish cleared his throat, “What brings you here so late?”
Kruti sighed, setting the glass down with a gentle clink. “It’s been a rough week,” she began, her voice a whisper. “I just needed to get away.”
Girish nodded, his eyes searching hers for any sign of what she wasn’t saying. He knew the separation hadn’t been easy for her, but they had agreed not to discuss it. He didn’t want to pry, but he also didn’t want her to feel alone. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Her gaze dropped to her hands, twisting the fabric of her wet saree. “No,” she murmured, “not really. I just…” Her voice trailed off. She took another sip of water, her hand shaking slightly.
Girish’s mind raced. He didn’t know what to do to ease her pain, but he knew he had to try. He decided to offer her something more substantial than water. “Would you like some rum?” he asked, his voice gentle. “It might help warm you up.”
Kruti’s eyes lit up at the mention of rum. She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “That sounds perfect,” she replied, her voice a bit stronger.
Girish went to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of Old Monk, his favourite. He poured two servings into the glasses, adding a splash of coke. As he handed one to Kruti, their fingers touched again. He felt the same jolt.
He sat down next to her, close but not too close. He took a sip, watching as she did the same. The warmth of the rum spread through him, easing the tension in his chest.
“It’s been tough,” Kruti began, her voice thick with emotion. “I never thought we’d end up like this.” She took a gulp, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “He was my first love, you know?”
Girish nodded, his emotions a tumultuous storm. He had seen the two of them together, had been at their wedding, and had hoped for their happiness. Yet here they were, divorced, with her seeking solace in his apartment at midnight. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“I know it’s hard, Kruti,” he said, his voice a soothing rumble. “But you’re stronger than you think.”
Her eyes searched his, looking for something, perhaps reassurance or understanding. She downed the rest of her rum, the amber liquid leaving a trail of fire down her throat. Girish could see the pain in her eyes, and something within him snapped.
He had to help her, had to make her feel better. “Here,” he said, pouring her another drink. “This’ll take the edge off.”
Kruti took the glass gratefully, downing the rum in one gulp. The warmth spread through her body, loosening her muscles, her thoughts swimming in the sweet oblivion of alcohol. She leaned back into the sofa, her eyes half-closed.
Girish watched her, feeling his attraction growing with every moment they shared. He knew it was wrong that this was his best friend’s wife. But the lines had blurred. She was no longer just an extension of his friend’s life. She was a woman in pain, and he was a man who wanted to comfort her.
Suddenly, Kruti’s eyes snapped open, and she was on her feet, the glass falling to the floor. Before Girish could react, she had leapt into his arms, her lips crushing against his. He was taken aback, his body stiffening for a second before giving in to the heat of the moment.
Her kiss was desperate and hungry. He felt himself responding despite his better judgment. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together. Her wet clothes clung to him, the scent of rain and jasmine mixing with the spicy warmth of the rum.
Girish’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire. He knew he should stop, that this was a line they couldn’t uncross. But the feel of her in his arms was too tempting. Her hands roamed his back, her nails digging into his skin as she deepened the kiss.
He could feel her need, her longing, and it mirrored his own. They stood there, locked in a passionate embrace, the only sound the steady patter of rain outside and their ragged breaths. The world outside ceased to exist as their mouths moved in perfect sync, exploring every inch of each other.
Girish’s hand found its way to her hair, running through the damp strands, pulling her closer. Kruti’s hands slid down to his waist. Her fingers traced the lines of his abs as she pulled him tightly against her. The warmth between them grew, igniting a fire that had been smouldering for too long.
Their kiss was a dance, a slow and sensual tango of desire and need. Girish could taste the salt of her tears and feel the tremble of her body. His own need grew stronger with each passing second. He broke away for a moment, panting, and looked into her eyes.
The vulnerability in her gaze sent a shiver down his spine. He didn’t want to be just a rebound, but he couldn’t resist the pull she had over him. He leaned in again, this time more gently, his kiss a promise of comfort. With trembling hands, he began to unravel her blouse, revealing the creamy skin beneath.
Each button was a tiny barrier, each layer a step closer to the woman he had been fantasizing about for so long. When her blouse fell to the floor, Kruti’s breath hitched. She stepped back slightly, her eyes searching his for permission. Girish nodded, his eyes dark with lust and something deeper.
He took over, his hands deftly untying the knot of her sari, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle of silk and water. He took his time with her, savouring every inch of her as if it were a forbidden fruit. Starting at her toes, he kissed along the arch of her foot, her ankle, her calf, and her knee.
Each kiss was a whisper of warmth on her cold, wet skin. He could feel her tremble as his mouth moved up her thighs. Her legs were shaking with a mix of anticipation and need. His tongue traced the lace of her petticoat, teasing her with the promise of what was to come.
Girish’s hands moved to her waist, his thumbs hooking under the elastic of her panties. He slid them down, exposing the soft, warm flesh of her stomach and the apex of her thighs. Kruti’s breath hitched as he kissed his way up, his mouth leaving a trail of fire on her skin.
His teeth grazed her hips as he removed her last piece of clothing. She stood before him, naked and beautiful. The rainwater was running in rivulets down her body. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him. His eyes devoured her curves.
The light from the hallway cast shadows across her breasts. He knelt before her, his eyes never leaving hers as he pressed a soft kiss to her navel. His tongue darted out, tasting the sweetness of her skin. He moved upward, leaving a wet path that made her shiver.
He kissed her belly, her ribs, the underside of her breasts, each touch sending waves of pleasure through her body. When he reached her thighs, Kruti’s legs parted involuntarily, giving him access to the part of her that was already throbbing with anticipation.
Girish’s breath was hot against her skin. Sending goosebumps across her thighs as he nuzzled closer to the juncture of her legs. He took in the scent of her arousal, the sweet and musky aroma that filled the air between them. With a nudge, he parted her folds, revealing her clean-shaven pussy.
He took a moment to appreciate her beauty. The delicate pink petals of her labia, the shiny pearl of her clit begging for his attention. His mouth watered as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her mound. Kruti’s legs wobbled. She grabbed onto his shoulders for support, her nails digging into his skin.
Girish felt a surge of power and lust, knowing that he had the power to give her pleasure that she hadn’t experienced in months. He flicked his tongue out, teasing her clit with the lightest of touches. Kruti gasped, her hips bucking forward involuntarily.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh, sending new waves of pleasure through her. He took his time, exploring every fold and curve of her sex with the tip of his tongue. He could feel her body tightening, her breaths growing shallower as she approached the edge.
But just as she was about to tip over, he pulled back. His tongue retreated, leaving her panting and desperate. She whimpered in protest, but he ignored her, placing a gentle kiss on her inner thigh instead. Girish looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust.
“Not yet,” he murmured, a smug smile playing on his lips. “I want to enjoy this.” Her eyes were wild, pleading with him to continue, but he had other plans. He kissed his way back up her body, his teeth grazing her skin as he went.
When he reached her breasts, he took one in his mouth, suckling the nipple gently before moving to the other. His teeth tugging and playing with the sensitive bud. Kruti’s breathing grew more ragged as she squirmed under his touch, her legs shaking.
With a final kiss to the top of her mound, Girish stood up, his desire clear through his pants. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth. He rolled it on with practised ease, his eyes never leaving hers.
The sound of the latex unfurled filled the room, adding to the anticipation. He positioned himself in front of her, his cock standing tall and proud. Kruti’s eyes grew wide as she watched him, her chest heaving with excitement. He stepped closer.
The tip of his cock brushed against her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. He took her hand and placed it on his shaft, guiding her to stroke him gently. The contact was electric, sending shivers down her spine. With a slow, deliberate motion, Girish pushed into her, inch by inch.
Kruti’s eyes fluttered closed, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as she felt him fill her. He went so slowly that she thought she would scream with anticipation. The feeling was exquisite, the pressure building with each gentle thrust. His movements were calculated, each stroke designed to maximize her pleasure.
She could feel the condom’s smoothness, the slight resistance adding to the sensation. Once fully sheathed inside her, Girish paused for a moment. He was savouring the feeling of her warm, wet heat enveloping him. Then, with the same agonizing slowness, he began to pull out.
The tip of his cock teased her opening before sliding back in. It was as if he was playing a symphony with her body. Each note was perfectly timed to make her arch her back and grip the sofa cushions. Kruti’s nails dug into his shoulders. Her body was trembling with the effort of holding back.
Her eyes flew open and met his, the desire in them a silent plea for more. Girish complied, his strokes becoming a little more urgent, a little deeper, but never too fast. He watched her face contort with pleasure. Her eyes rolled back as he hit that perfect spot inside her.
Each time he withdrew, she’d whine. Her body was begging for him to fill her again. And he did, over and over, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. With a sudden burst of energy, Kruti wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper.
Girish groaned, his hands sliding to her ass to support her weight. The new angle had her pussy clenching around him, her walls tight and wet. He picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of her with increasing speed. The rain outside grew louder, matching the rhythm of their bodies.
Kruti’s moans grew louder, echoing through the apartment. Her hands roamed his back, her nails digging into his skin as he thrust into her. Girish leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue mimicking the motion of his cock.
She responded eagerly, her tongue duelling with his, her moans muffled by their kisses. The world outside had ceased to exist; it was just the two of them lost in a sea of pleasure. Breaking the kiss, Girish lifted Kruti into his arms, her legs still wrapped around his waist.
She gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and excitement. He carried her into the bedroom, the soft glow of the streetlights through the curtains casting them in a warm, ethereal light. He placed her on the bed, her legs still locked around him as he continued to move inside her.
The mattress sank slightly under their combined weight, the bedsprings protesting softly. Girish sat on the edge of the bed, his cock still buried within her. He looked up at her, his eyes full of heat and desire. “Ride me, Kruti,” he whispered, his voice low and gruff with lust. “Take what you need.”
With a nod, she unlocked her legs from his waist. She settled in his lap, her back to his chest. He groaned at the sensation of her warm, wet pussy enveloping him once more. Her arms wrapped around his neck. She leaned back against him, her breasts pressing against his bare chest.
He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, the tremble in her body as she took a deep breath. Girish held onto her hips, guiding her as she began to rise and fall on his cock. Her movements were tentative at first, unsure. But with each downward thrust, she grew more confident.
The chair creaked softly under the rhythm of their lovemaking, a sweet soundtrack to their shared passion. He could feel her tightening around him, her muscles clenched with each stroke. Her breath grew ragged as she found her rhythm. Her breasts bounced slightly with every movement.
Girish leaned back, watching her in awe. His hands gripped the chair’s armrests to keep from losing control. Kruti’s eyes were closed, her face a mask of pleasure. She rocked her hips back and forth, taking him deeper with every motion.
Her long, dark hair fell like a curtain around her shoulders, sticking to her neck in the dampness of the room. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the air, a sweet symphony that seemed to echo in the quiet of the night. Girish felt his climax building, the tension coiling in his stomach, his balls tightening.
He didn’t want it to end, but the feeling was too intense to resist. He reached up, cupping her breasts. His thumbs flicked her nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. Her hips began to move faster, her breath coming in short gasps.
Girish knew she was close. He could feel it in the way her pussy clamped down on him. He reached down and began to rub her clit in slow, deliberate circles, his other hand slipping into her folds to tease her G-spot. Her eyes snapped open, meeting his in the mirror.
He watched as the pleasure built in her, her pupils dilating, her lips parting in a silent scream. The sight of her on the edge was too much for him. He leaned in, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth as he pinched and rolled the other. The dual sensation sent Kruti spiralling over the edge.
Her body convulsed as she cum hard, her pussy spasming around his cock. Girish felt his release build, his strokes growing more erratic as he watched her climax. He could feel her juices coating his shaft, the warm wetness adding to his desire. He pulled out of her, his cock glistening with her arousal.
Without a word, Kruti turned around, her eyes dark with need. She reached down and took him in her hand, guiding him back to her entrance. He pushed into her again, the sensation of being surrounded by her tight. The wet heat was too much to bear.
This time, he didn’t hold back. He thrust into her with a ferocity that surprised even himself. Kruti’s legs were in the air, her ankles resting on his shoulders, giving him the deepest penetration possible. He could feel his cock hit her G-spot with every stroke.
Her moans grow louder with each push. His hand found its way to her clit. He began to rub it in time with his thrusts, the pressure building within her. Her eyes rolled back in her head. She threw her head back, arching her back to take him even deeper.
Girish watched as she lost herself in the sensations. Her body moved of its own accord, her pussy tightening around his cock like a vice. He could feel her getting closer, the tension building in her core. He leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck as he whispered, “Come for me, Kruti.”
The words were like a trigger. She detonated, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. Girish could feel her muscles spasm around him, her pussy pulsing with pleasure. He groaned, the pressure building within him, his climax just a heartbeat away.
He increased his pace, his hips moving faster, driving into her with a primal need. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her legs tightening around his neck as she rode the waves of ecstasy. Girish watched her face in the mirror. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’, the way her eyes rolled back in pure bliss.
It was the most erotic thing he had seen, and it was all for him. He leaned back slightly, his cock sliding out of her with a wet pop. He watched as she gasped, her pussy clenching in protest. He smirked, knowing she needed more. He positioned himself at the edge of the chair, her legs still in the air.
With one swift motion, he thrust back into her, her walls wrapping around him like a vice. Kruti’s head fell back, a long, keening moan escaping her lips. Her orgasm had barely subsided. He began to piston in and out of her once more, his strokes deep and powerful.
Girish could feel himself getting closer, the pressure building in his balls. He leaned forward, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, suckling it as he watched her in the mirror. Her eyes found his in the reflection, a silent plea for release. He knew she was on the edge again, her body begging for it.
With a final, powerful thrust, he hit her G-spot, her pussy clamping down on him as she screamed out his name. The sensation was too much for him to bear. He came hard, his hot seed filling the condom as he emptied himself into her. The intensity of their climax was unlike anything he had experienced.
They remained like that for a moment, both panting, their bodies slick with sweat and rainwater. Girish’s heart pounded in his chest, his cock still throbbing even as the aftershocks of pleasure subsided. He leaned down and kissed her neck, tasting the salt and sweetness of her skin.
Kruti’s legs fell to the side, her body going limp as she came down from the high. Gently, he pulled out of her, the condom slipping off his now-flaccid cock. He tied it off and tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving hers. They were both panting, their chests heaving in the quiet of the room.
The rain had slowed to a gentle patter, the only sound that broke the silence. Girish reached for Kruti, his arms wrapping around her. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, in sync with the rhythm of his own.
For a moment, they just held each other, the tension of the last hour dissipating like steam in the cool night air.
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