They didn’t waste time on pretty words. Khan hooked his fingers in my thong’s waistband and snapped it apart, the fabric tearing with a wet rip, exposing my trimmed bikini-haired pussy—lips swollen and glistening despite my proud protests.
“Look at this pious gash, boys—already drooling for goon meat.” I hissed, “Lies! I’m dry as my vows,” but the evidence slicked my inner thighs, my 36-inch waist twisting futilely. Sunny dove in first, the young buck dropping to his knees, his 6.5-inch thickness slapping my thigh as he buried his face in my shaved armpits, licking the smooth skin with sloppy hunger while his hands mauled my 44-inch ass, spreading cheeks to tease my puckered hole. “Tastes like arrogance, bhai,” he mumbled, and I bucked, spitting, “Filthy pup—my pits are for deodorant, not your dog tongue!” But the rasp of his stubble sent sparks to my clit, my pierced nose flaring with unwanted heat.
Raju grabbed my red bra straps next, yanking them down to free my tits completely—the cups snapping off, leaving my 42E globes jiggling wildly, nipples pierced? No, just erect and aching. He latched on like a starved calf, sucking one fat nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing as he growled,
“These udders are for milking, aunty—not prayers.” Pain-pleasure shot through me, my arms pulling at the sofa tie, but I sneered through gritted teeth:
“Suck all you want, boy—it’s Jayaram’s milk you’ll never get.” Vikram joined the feast, pinching the other nipple hard, twisting until I yelped, his curved cock grinding against my hip, leaving a sticky trail. Khan watched, stroking his 9-incher, then shoved Sunny aside to line up at my dripping entrance.
“Time to fuck the pride out of you, Madam Snitch.” With one brutal thrust, he impaled me—his thick length splitting my pious walls, bottoming out against my cervix in a stretch that made stars burst behind my arrogant eyes.I screamed—not surrender, but fury:
“You bastard! Pull out—I’m a married woman, faithful to the bone!” But my hips bucked up involuntarily, that trimmed pussy clenching around his invading girth like a velvet vice, juices squirting as he pounded deep, his balls slapping my ass with wet smacks.
Raju and Vikram took turns at my mouth, forcing their cocks past my proud lips—Raju’s girth gagging me first, salty pre-cum coating my tongue as I mumbled curses around it: “Mmmph—unworthy… pricks…”
Sunny knelt behind, rimming my ass with his tongue, probing the tight ring while kneading my thicc cheeks. Khan hammered relentlessly, his fifty-year-old stamina turning my sofa into a sweat-drenched altar, my tied arms aching as my body arched, tits bouncing with each savage plunge.
“Feel that, pious whore? Your activist cunt loves goon cock,” he taunted, and damn it, the orgasm built like a storm, my walls fluttering despite my haughty glares.They rotated like a well-oiled machine of depravity—Vikram sliding in next, his curved 8-incher hooking my G-spot with every thrust, making my trimmed lips puff and quiver, cum from Khan leaking out in frothy rings. I spat at him when his turn at my mouth ended: “Curved trash—you’ll never curve my will!”