He pulled out, cumming on her face and clit, streaks of white dripping down her cheeks and pussy, her arrow of hair glistening. She stood, the camisole barely covering her, cum dripping as she walked down the stairs, passing another tenant who stared, shocked. Rohan emerged from the service stairwell, his jeans tight, and pulled her into their apartment. He knelt, licking the cum from her clit, his tongue swirling over her swollen bud, cleaning her thoroughly. “My fucking whore,” he growled, then fucked her against the wall, her camisole bunched up, her moans loud enough to wake the kids, who slept on, oblivious.
Tuesday, Rohan’s dare pushed further. “The park near the supermarket,” he said, his voice rough. “Camisole only. Fuck someone in the open, cum on your face and pussy. I’ll watch from the car.” Sonia nodded, slipping into a white camisole, its sheer fabric clinging to her 34DD breasts, armholes gaping to reveal their side curves, her nipples hard. Her arrow of hair and clit were visible as she walked, the hem barely covering her ass.
The park was busy with joggers and families, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows. Sonia wandered to a secluded grove, the camisole riding up to expose her pussy, her clit glistening. A jogger, late 20s, muscular, slowed as he saw her, his eyes locked on her exposed body. She smiled, bending to “tie her shoe,” the camisole lifting to flash her ass and pussy, her clit throbbing. “Need a break?” she teased, leading him behind a cluster of trees.
She pulled his shorts down, his cock springing free, and straddled him on the grass, the camisole hiked up, her breasts spilling out, nipples grazing his chest. He thrust into her, hard and deep, her pussy wet and gripping, her clit rubbing against him. Her moans were soft but reckless, the risk of passersby sending her over the edge. He pulled out, cumming on her face and clit, white streaks dripping down her cheeks and pussy, her arrow of hair glistening. She stood, the camisole barely covering her, cum dripping as she walked back to Rohan’s car, park-goers staring, some whispering.
Rohan pulled her into the car, his tongue licking the cum from her clit, savoring the taste, cleaning her thoroughly. “You’re fucking filthy,” he said, then fucked her in the backseat, her breasts bouncing, the camisole bunched at her waist, her orgasm crashing through her as he came inside her.
Wednesday, Sonia visited Mrs. Gupta’s apartment in her black camisole, the hem at her ass cheeks, her 34DD breasts spilling out, nipples visible, her clit exposed with every step. Mrs. Gupta welcomed her, prattling about recipes, oblivious to Sonia’s near-nudity. Aryan sat on the couch, his eyes wide as Sonia leaned over to grab a glass, the camisole riding up to flash her pussy, her clit glistening. “Homework going well, Aryan?” she teased, her voice low, letting the camisole gape, her breasts nearly popping out. He grinned, nodding, then ran off to join friends, his flush evident. Sonia’s core throbbed, the risk of Mrs. Gupta noticing her delicious edge.