She led him to a landing between floors, the stairwell quiet but for distant footsteps. Her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling him against her, her camisole hiked up to expose her bare ass and pussy. “Touch me,” she demanded, her voice low. His hands fumbled, grazing her breasts through the camisole, then slipping under to squeeze her nipples, hard and aching. Sonia moaned, guiding his fingers to her clit, wet and swollen, the arrow of hair a guide. He groaned, his erection straining his pants, and she unzipped him, freeing his cock, thick and pulsing.
She pushed him against the wall, straddling his thigh, her pussy grinding against his jeans as she stroked him. “Fuck me,” she whispered, hiking the camisole higher, her breasts fully exposed now, bouncing as she moved. He lifted her, pinning her to the railing, and thrust into her, hard and fast, her wet heat gripping him. Sonia’s moans echoed softly, her eyes flicking to the service door, knowing Rohan’s arousal matched hers. The boy’s hands gripped her ass, his fingers digging in as he pounded, her clit rubbing against him with each thrust, her breasts bouncing, nearly popping out completely through the camisole’s armholes.
Footsteps approached from below, and Sonia’s heart raced, the risk pushing her over the edge. She clenched around him, her orgasm crashing through her as he came, hot and messy, inside her. She pulled back, adjusting her camisole just as a neighbor rounded the corner, oblivious. The boy scrambled to zip up, muttering thanks, and fled. Sonia smoothed her hair, her body trembling, and glanced at the service door, where Rohan’s silhouette vanished, his arousal certain.
Sunday morning, Rohan’s voice was rough over breakfast. “You fucked him on the stairs like a whore,” he said, his eyes gleaming as Sonia recounted every thrust, every moan, the near-miss with the neighbor. She wore a white sleeveless t-shirt, ending at her ass cheeks, her 34DD breasts bouncing, nipples visible, her trimmed arrow and clit exposed as she moved. Arjun and Nia, eating cereal, giggled. “Mom’s naked again,” Nia said, unfazed. Sonia winked, bending to pour milk, the t-shirt riding up to flash her bare ass to the open window, where the neighbor’s teenage son, Aryan, might be watching.
Rohan leaned closer, his hand brushing her thigh. “Today’s dare,” he said. “The kids’ school for the science fair. Wear the camisole—nothing else. Find someone there, fuck them somewhere hidden, and don’t get caught. I’ll be there, watching.” Sonia’s pulse spiked, the audacity thrilling her. A camisole in public, at a school? It was insane, but her craving demanded it.
At 2 PM, Sonia and Rohan arrived at the school, the science fair bustling with parents, teachers, and students. Sonia wore a black camisole, its thin straps and sheer fabric barely covering her 34DD breasts, the armholes gaping to reveal their side curves, her nipples pressing against the cotton. The hem ended at her ass cheeks, her trimmed arrow and visible clit exposed with every step, no panties to shield her. Rohan walked beside her, his eyes scanning the crowd, his arousal hidden behind a calm facade.