But the real life of the flat began after 10:30 at night.
That was when their old ritual returned — stronger and freer than ever because now they had complete privacy and no fear of Divya or parents walking in.
On the fifth night, Divyansh’s father Prakash called. He had already transferred money for a good laptop “for studies”. The next afternoon Divyansh went to the computer market and came back with a brand new HP laptop — i5, 8GB RAM, 512GB SSD. Decent screen, good speakers. The moment he brought it home, Himanshu and Ajay whooped like they had won a lottery.
That same night, after coaching, the three of them showered, ate, locked the main door, switched off the big light, and turned on the laptop for the first time in their new den.
They sat on the two beds pushed together, laptop in the middle. Divyansh opened the folder they had carefully copied from their phones. The screen glowed in the dark room.
They started with a long MILF video — a young guy roughly fucking a thick, busty older woman on a sofa. The sounds filled the small bedroom. Himanshu was already rubbing himself over his shorts.
“Fuck bhai… this is exactly what I want,” he muttered, eyes glued to the screen. “Some hot aunty who knows what she’s doing. I want to grab those big tits and fuck her till she begs.”
Ajay laughed but his hand was already inside his lowers. “I keep thinking about that one coaching ma’am… the Chemistry one with the tight kurti. Imagine all three of us with her. One in her mouth, one in her pussy… she’d lose her mind.”
Divyansh stayed quieter at first, but as the video got rougher — the guy spanking the woman and pulling her hair — he finally spoke, voice low and honest.
“I like this part… the control. I want to tie someone’s hands. Or have mine tied. I don’t care. And I still can’t stop thinking about older women. The way she’s moaning… I want that.”
They didn’t hide anything. Shorts came off. They stroked openly in front of each other, sometimes commenting on the video, sometimes on real girls they had seen that day in coaching or school. Rohan’s new female friend from school got mentioned. The hot Chemistry teacher at Apex. Even a couple of senior girls they had noticed during orientation. No shame. No judgment. Just three best friends who knew each other’s cocks, kinks and fantasies better than anyone else in the world.
When they finished, they cleaned up, laughed about how much better the big laptop screen was compared to phone, and talked for another hour in the dark — about the new teachers, about how tired coaching made them, and about which fantasy they wanted to try first if they ever got the chance.
By the end of the second week, the flat in Saket Vihar had become their sanctuary. School and coaching were the battlefield. The den was where they could be completely themselves — exhausted, horny, ambitious, and completely open with each other.
Every night after 10:30 the laptop came on.
Every night the three of them shared everything all over again.
And every morning they woke up knowing that whatever happened in the city outside, they still had this unbreakable thing between them.
