One day, at a city carnival, with Ferris wheels and food stalls, Sonia in a sheer red camisole, milk dripping, clit exposed, fucked two carnies, mid-30s, their cocks in her pussy and mouth, cum on her clit and face, paying ₹1000 each. Rakesh collared her, parading her naked, whipping her ass, selling her to three onlookers, mid-20s, who fucked her pussy, mouth, and ass, cum on her face, paying ₹1500 each. Sonia screamed, “I’m a proud whore!” Neighbors Mr. Nair and Mrs. Gupta spread rumors. Arjun and Nia saw her, Nia giggling, “Mommy’s shiny!” Arjun asked, “What’s that goo?” Sonia said, “Carnival paint, kids.” They hugged her, unaware.
One afternoon, Sonia fucked Anil in the courtyard, his cock in her pussy, cum on her clit, milk dripping. He pressed, “Neighbors say you’re a paid whore. Your husband’s fine with this?” Sonia smiled, “He loves it,” but Anil’s eyes narrowed. Arjun and Nia saw her, giggling, “Mommy’s with that guy!” Sonia hugged them, cum dripping, “He’s fixing the tree, sweetie.” Nia chirped, “You’re shiny!” They ran off. Anil muttered, “This won’t stay hidden,” but Sonia laughed, her pride unshaken. Rohan licked her clean, unaware it was Anil.In the garage, Sonia fucked Kabir against the scooter, his cock in her ass around the plug, cum inside, milk dripping. Nia laughed, “Mommy’s new friend!” Sonia smiled, “He’s fixing the bike, sweetie.” Kabir paid ₹2000, Mrs. Gupta shouting, “Whore!” Sonia grinned, “Proudly!” Rohan licked her clean, oblivious.
One evening, Sonia’s parents stayed longer, their disapproval a constant hum. At a local bazaar, Sonia in a sheer yellow saree, milk dripping, clit exposed, the plug shining, fucked a jeweler, late 20s, in a storeroom, his cock in her pussy, cum on her clit, milk dripping. A shop assistant, 19, fucked her mouth, cum on her face, each paying ₹500. Mrs. Patel, buying bangles, saw her, gasping, “Sonia, you’re a whore!” Sonia laughed, “And loving it, Ma!” flashing her cum-soaked body. Back home, Mrs. Patel confronted her, “You’re shaming our family!” Sonia smirked, “I’m free, Ma. This is my life.” Arjun and Nia nodded, “Mommy’s always sparkly, Grandma!” Mrs. Patel shook her head, defeated.
One night, Rakesh took Sonia to a street food festival, naked but for the collar and plug, leashed as his slave. Cum and milk stained her, the plug glinting. He tied her to a stall, offering her to four chefs, mid-30s, who fucked her pussy, mouth, and ass, cum splashing her, paying ₹1000 each. Rakesh whipped her thighs, the plug searing, then fucked her ass, cumming inside, making her lick him clean. Onlookers paid to watch, neighbors gasping, “Whore!” Sonia screamed, “I’m a proud whore!” Rohan licked her clean at home, fucking her, the plug in place.
One sultry afternoon, Sonia ventured to a riverside festival, the air heavy with the scent of jasmine and fried pakoras, her sheer purple camisole clinging to her milk-drenched breasts, the sides barely containing their swell, her pussy and plug brazenly exposed. Devotees and vendors stared, their murmurs a mix of shock and lust, as she swayed through the crowd, her clit glistening under the sun’s glare. A grandmother clutched her prayer beads, hissing, “Shameless harlot!” but Sonia’s pussy throbbed, her pride flaring at the condemnation. In a shaded grove by the river, she lured a boatman, early 30s, and a flower seller, late 20s, her camisole hiked to her waist. The boatman fucked her pussy, his cock thick and urgent, cum erupting over her clit, milk spraying the grass. The flower seller fucked her mouth, his cum coating her face in sticky ropes, the plug grinding with each thrust, amplifying her orgasm. Each slipped ₹1200 into her camisole, the notes damp with her sweat. She returned to the festival, cum and milk dripping, helping a stall with garlands while onlookers whispered, “Whore.” Sonia flashed her cum-slicked pussy, her arousal spiking.