The humid Mumbai air clung to Meera’s skin the moment she stepped into Kavita’s apartment, a stark contrast to the sterile chill of the airport. It had been a kindness, her old friend taking her in after the sudden collapse of her job and her savings. The relief was a physical weight lifted from her shoulders. That relief curdled into something else the moment she saw Vikram, Kavita’s boyfriend, watching her from the leather sofa. His gaze wasn’t friendly; it was an appraisal.
“So, this is the famous Meera, ” he said, not getting up. His voice was smooth, low, and it commanded the room. “Kavita says you’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“Yes. Thank you for having me, ” Meera murmured, her eyes fixed on the intricate pattern of the rug.
“Look at me when you speak, ” Vikram commanded.
Her head snapped up. Kavita stood beside him, a placid smile on her face, one hand resting possessively on his shoulder. She doesn’t see it, Meera thought. She doesn’t see the cold intensity in his eyes.
“There are rules in this house, ” Vikram continued, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “My rules. The most important one is honesty. No secrets. And no shyness. I can’t stand false modesty. It’s a lie.”
Meera’s heart began a frantic rhythm against her ribs. “I’m not... I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.” He gestured vaguely at her clothes�a simple cotton salwar kameez. “You hide in all that fabric. You hide behind downcast eyes. That ends now. This is your first lesson in gratitude.”
Kavita squeezed his shoulder. “Be nice, Vikram. She just got here.”
“I am being nice, ” he said, his eyes never leaving Meera. “I’m offering her a chance to truly be part of our home. To not be a stranger hiding in the guest room. Stand up, Meera.”
Her legs felt like water, but she obeyed, the command in his voice leaving no room for refusal.
“Good. Now, the tunic. And the pants. Off.”
The air vanished from her lungs. No. This isn’t happening. She looked desperately at Kavita, who merely tilted her head, her expression one of mild expectation.
“Vikram likes openness, ” Kavita said, her voice a soft, traitorous whisper. “It’s how we live. There’s no reason to be ashamed of the body God gave you. Show him you’re thankful for our hospitality.”
Tremors started deep within her, a fine vibration that made her hands shake. This was madness. But the door was locked, and they were two, and she was one. The threat wasn’t spoken, but it hung in the air, thick and suffocating. With fingers that felt numb and clumsy, she reached for the buttons of her kameez. Each one was a tiny betrayal. The soft cotton parted, and she let the garment slide from her shoulders, pooling at her feet on the expensive rug. The cool air hit her skin, raising goosebumps on her arms.
Her fingers went to the drawstring of her salwar. She hesitated, a final, futile act of resistance.
Vikram’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and final. “Now.”
The pants joined the tunic. She stood in the center of the room, clad only in a simple white bra and panties, her arms instinctively coming up to cross over her chest. Her skin burned with a hot, prickling shame.
Vikram’s eyes raked over her, taking his time. “The rest. All of it.”
A whimper escaped her lips. This was a nightmare. Kavita walked over to her, not with anger, but with a terrifying calm. She reached behind Meera and unhooked her bra with a practiced flick. The cups fell away, exposing her small, round breasts to the dim light. Meera squeezed her eyes shut.
“Look at him, Meera, ” Kavita instructed softly, pulling her arms down to her sides. “Let him see you.”
Forced to open her eyes, Meera met Vikram’s gaze. His expression was one of cool, detached interest. “Now the final piece, ” he said.
She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pushed them down her thighs, stepping out of them. She was completely naked, utterly exposed under the relentless scrutiny of two people she had thought were her sanctuary. Her nipples were hard peaks, and a cold dread settled in her stomach.
“Beautiful, ” Kavita murmured, circling her. “So timid. So sweet.”
Vikram leaned back again, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Now, show me how you please yourself when you’re alone in your room at night. Show us how you touch that pretty little cunt of yours.”
Meera’s world tilted. “I... I can’t.”
“You can, and you will, ” Vikram stated, his voice dropping into a warning growl. “Or would you prefer your gratitude lesson to come from the leather strap I keep in the bedroom? I can promise you, it leaves a much more... lasting impression.”
The image, sharp and terrifying, broke her. A tear finally escaped, tracing a hot path down her cheek. Her breath came in shallow, ragged pulls. Slowly, horrifyingly, she brought a trembling hand down between her legs. The coarse hair of her pubis felt alien under her own touch.
“Look at us, not at the floor, ” Kavita coaxed, her voice a parody of encouragement.
Meera forced her head up, her vision blurry with unshed tears. Her fingers found the sensitive nub of her clitoris. A jolt, entirely unwanted, shot through her. She flinched.
“That’s it, ” Vikram said, his eyes dark with a predatory gleam. “Show us. Show us how you make yourself come.”
Her middle finger began to move in a small, desperate circle. The sensation was all wrong�a performance under duress, not pleasure. Yet, her body, traitorous and weak, began to respond. A faint slickness started to bloom between her labia, a physiological betrayal that made her want to vomit. Her skin was on fire, every nerve ending screaming in humiliation and a shocking, deep-seated thrill she refused to acknowledge.
“Use two fingers, ” Vikram ordered, his own hand resting high on Kavita’s thigh, a possessive gesture that spoke of his absolute control. “Open yourself up for us. Let us see how ready you are.”
A sob caught in her throat, but she obeyed, sliding two fingers through her slick folds, parting herself. The air touched her most intimate flesh, and she shuddered violently. The soft, wet sounds of her own manipulation filled the silent room. She was falling apart, her carefully constructed composure shattered, reduced to a trembling, exposed thing performing for their pleasure.
Her hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk. Her breath hitched�a real, raw catch of air that had nothing to do with performance.
Vikram’s smile widened. He uncurled from the sofa, a panther on the prowl, and walked toward her until he was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“You see?” he whispered, his voice a low thrum that vibrated in her bones. “No more shyness. Just a pretty, wet girl learning her place.” He reached out, not touching her, but letting his fingers hover just above her hip. “Now... put those wet fingers inside. Show us how deep you can go. Show us how much you want it.”
part1b
The air in Vikram’s penthouse was cool, a stark contrast to the feverish heat crawling up Meera’s neck. Kavita’s arm was a comforting, yet unyielding, weight around her shoulders.
“You’re safe here, Meera, ” Kavita murmured, her voice a silken trap. “We just want you to feel comfortable. To be free.”
Vikram didn’t move from his leather armchair, his dark eyes fixed on her from across the room. His silence was a louder command than any shout. “Comfortable means no secrets, ” he stated, his voice low and absolute. “No shyness. Not in my house. We’ve given you a room, our protection. This is the price. Show us.”
Meera’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird in a cage. She looked to Kavita, her oldest friend, seeking refuge. Kavita just smiled, a beautiful, sharp thing, and gave a slight, encouraging nod. Her fingers traced idle patterns on Meera’s arm. Do it. Please him.
Trembling fingers found the hem of her simple cotton t-shirt. The material whispered over her skin as she pulled it up and over her head, letting it fall soundlessly to the plush carpet. The cool air pebbled her nipples into tight buds against the plain fabric of her bra. Her arms instinctively crossed over her chest.
Vikram’s gaze was a physical brand. “All of it.”
A sob caught in her throat, but Kavita’s hand was on her back, pushing gently. “It’s okay, sweetie. He just wants to see how beautiful you are. We both do.”
With shaking hands, Meera unbuttoned her jeans, pushed them and her panties down her thighs in one clumsy motion, stepping out of the puddle of fabric. She stood before them, completely exposed, her skin flushing a deep, mortified red. She kept her arms tightly wrapped around herself, trying to disappear.
“Hands at your sides, ” Vikram commanded. He hadn’t moved a muscle, but his dominance filled the room. “Look at me.”
Slowly, painfully, she lowered her arms. She forced her eyes up to meet his, her vision blurring with unshed tears of shame. His eyes raked over her, from her quivering lips, down the slope of her neck, over the small, firm swell of her breasts, down the flat plane of her stomach to the neat triangle of dark hair between her thighs. He took his time, and the sheer intensity of his appraisal sent an unwanted, traitorous thrill through her veins.
“Good, ” he said, a flicker of something hot in his eyes. “Now, show us how you touch yourself when you’re alone. Show us how you make yourself come.”
Meera’s breath caught. “No... please...”
In a flash, Vikram was on his feet. He moved to a lacquered cabinet and withdrew a short, vicious-looking riding crop. He didn’t brandish it; he simply tapped its tip lightly against his palm. The soft thwap was more terrifying than any shout. “Disobedience has a cost, Meera. A stinging one. Now. Show us.”
Kavita moved behind her, her body pressed against Meera’s back, her mouth close to her ear. Her hands came around to cup Meera’s breasts, her thumbs circling the nipples. “It’s so exciting, Meera. Let us see. I want to see.” Her voice was husky with arousal, her own breathing becoming uneven.
Trapped between Kavita’s manipulating hands and Vikram’s threatening presence, something in Meera broke. A strange, dizzying acceptance mixed with the fear. Her hand, as if moving on its own, drifted down her belly. Her fingers were trembling, clumsy. She closed her eyes, trying to hide in the darkness behind her lids.
“Eyes open, ” Vikram growled. “Watch us watching you.”
Her eyes flew open. She found his gaze, and it held her, pinned her in place as surely as a physical force. Her middle finger found her clit, a timid, circling pressure. It was dry, the touch awkward and shameful. She flinched.
“Spit on your fingers, ” Kavita instructed from behind her, her own voice thick. “Make it wet for yourself.”
Meera, her face burning, brought her fingers to her mouth, slicked them with her saliva, and brought them back down. The slide was easier now, wetter. She began to move her fingers in a slow, hesitant circle over her clitoris. A tiny, sharp jolt of sensation, buried deep under layers of humiliation, made her hips give a minute jerk.
“That’s it, ” Kavita purred, pinching her nipples gently. “You’re getting wet for us, aren’t you? I can feel your heart racing.”
She was. Against her will, her body was responding. A slick heat began to gather between her legs, her own moisture mixing with the spit, making the glide of her fingers smoother, easier. Her circles grew wider, a little faster. Her breath started to come in shallow gasps. The pleasure was a fragile thread, weaving through the tapestry of her embarrassment, pulling tighter and tighter. She could feel the weight of their stares, could see the dark approval in Vikram’s eyes, and it fed the strange, dark fire in her belly. Her other hand crept up to her own breast, mimicking Kavita’s motions, pinching her own nipple, the sharp pain-pleasure making her moan softly.
She was close. The pressure was building, a coil winding tight deep inside her, threatening to snap. Her head fell back against Kavita’s shoulder, her rhythm becoming frantic, losing its hesitation. She was almost there, teetering on the edge, her entire world narrowing to the desperate, building throb between her legs.
“Stop.”
Vikram’s voice cut through her mounting ecstasy like a knife.
Her hand froze instantly, a desperate whimper escaping her lips. The denial was a physical ache, a cruel interruption of the release she desperately needed.
Vikram had unbuckled his pants. He freed his erection, thick and already glistening at the tip. He gripped himself, stroking slowly as he looked at her. “You don’t get to come from your own hand. Not yet. You’ll use that pretty mouth. You’ll take me, and you’ll swallow every last drop. Then you can have your release.” He moved closer, the head of his cock nudging against her parted lips. “Open.”
The soft, rhythmic sound was the only noise in the room, a slick, wet friction that made Meera’s cheeks burn with a heat that had nothing to do with the warm apartment air. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she could feel their gazes on her�Kavita’s curious, encouraging stare from the armchair, and Vikram’s... his was different. Heavy. Appraising.
Her back was against the cool leather of the couch, her slender legs splayed, the thin fabric of her saree pooled around her hips. Her own fingers worked between her legs, a practiced, desperate dance. Two fingers slid in and out of her own wetness, her thumb pressing tight, insistent circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her hips stutter. God, she was close. The coil in her lower belly pulled taut, a sweet, unbearable tension begging for release. A soft, choked whimper escaped her lips.
“Look at her, Vikram, ” Kavita murmured, her voice a low, thrilled whisper. “She’s so beautiful like this. So lost in it.”
Meera’s eyes fluttered open. Vikram wasn’t looking at Kavita. He was staring directly at Meera, his dark eyes intense, unblinking. He stood by the couch, having moved there silently. His expression was unreadable, but a muscle feathered in his jaw. He was still fully dressed, the picture of control while she lay unraveling before him.
Her rhythm faltered. The impending peak, so near just a second ago, receded slightly under the weight of his scrutiny. She felt exposed, utterly naked despite the silk still tangled around her waist.
“Don’t stop, ” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. It wasn’t a request.
A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her, but beneath it, a darker, hotter current of excitement stirred. She obeyed, her fingers resuming their movement, though it felt different now�performed, watched. Judged. Her breath came in shallow pants.
Vikram’s hands went to his belt. The metallic click of the buckle unfastening was obscenely loud. The rasp of his zipper following it made her jump. He never broke eye contact with her as he pushed his pants and boxers down just enough to free his erection.
Meera’s breath caught in her throat. He was thick, hard, the head already glistening with a single bead of moisture. Her own fingers stilled completely, mesmerized.
He gripped himself, his fingers wrapping around his length, and gave a slow, firm stroke. A low groan rumbled in his chest. The sight of his large, calloused hand working his own flesh, while his eyes devoured her, sent a jolt of pure, undiluted lust straight to her core. She felt herself grow impossibly wetter, a fresh slickness coating her inner thighs.
“You were about to come, weren’t you?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for denial.
She could only manage a shaky nod, her lips parted.
“Not like that, ” he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. He took a step closer, the heat of his body radiating toward her. “You don’t get to come from your own hand. Not yet.”
He moved even closer, the tip of his cock nudging against her parted lips. The warmth of it, the faint, musky scent of him, made her head spin.
“You’ll use that pretty mouth instead.” His grip on himself tightened. “You’ll take me. You’ll swallow every last drop. Then you can have your release.”
The head of his cock pressed more insistently against her mouth. “Open.”
It was a command. A final, irrevocable order.
A tremor wracked Meera’s body. She looked past him, to Kavita, seeking... she didn’t know what. Permission? A way out? But Kavita was leaning forward, her eyes wide and dark with arousal, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She gave a slight, eager nod.
That was all it took. The last vestige of her resistance melted away, replaced by a hungry, submissive need to please. To obey.
Her jaw went slack. She opened her mouth.
Vikram didn’t hesitate. He pushed forward, the broad head of his cock sliding past her lips, stretching them wide. She gasped at the intrusion, the reality of it far more intense than the fantasy. The taste of him, salt and skin, flooded her senses. He filled her mouth completely, the tip hitting the back of her throat, making her eyes water.
“That’s it, ” he growled, his voice thick with lust. He placed a firm hand on the back of her head, not forcing, but guiding. “Take it. All of it.”
He began to move, a shallow thrust that slid his length along her tongue. Meera’s mind went blank, all her focus narrowing to this single act. The weight of him on her tongue. The way her lips strained around his girth. The low, approving sounds coming from both him and Kavita.
She relaxed her throat, willing herself to take him deeper. Her own need was a throbbing, forgotten ache between her legs, secondary now to the overwhelming task of pleasing him.
He withdrew almost completely, then pushed back in, deeper this time. Her throat convulsed around the intrusion, a reflex she fought to control. She breathed hard through her nose, her eyes streaming. Her hands, which had fallen to her sides, clenched the leather couch.
“Look at you, ” Kavita breathed from her chair, her voice husky. “You look so good like this, Meera. So perfect for him.”
The words, the voyeuristic thrill, sent another shock of heat through Meera. She moaned around Vikram’s cock, the vibration pulling a ragged groan from him.
“Fuck, ” he gritted out, his hips pumping a little faster now, a little harder. His control was fraying. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her steady. “Your mouth is fucking incredible. So warm. So tight.”
He was fully sheathed in her mouth now, his pelvis pressed against her face with every thrust. She could feel the coarse hair of his groin against her nose, smell the raw, intimate scent of his arousal. Her own saliva pooled, dripping down her chin onto her chest.
She was lightheaded, drunk on the sensation, on the sheer subjugation of it. This was for them. Her pleasure was secondary, a reward to be given by him, on his terms. The thought alone made her squirm, a fresh pulse of her own arousal soaking the couch beneath her.
His rhythm became erratic, frantic. The muscles in his thighs tightened. A deep, guttural sound built in his chest.
“I’m going to come, ” he warned her, his voice strained. His grip on her hair became almost painful. “You’re going to swallow it. Every drop. Don’t you dare spill a single fucking drop"
The word died in his throat as his entire body went rigid. A violent shudder ran through him, and Meera braced herself, her throat relaxing in anticipation of the hot spill of his release. But it never came.
Vikram’s hips stilled. With a sharp, controlled breath, he pulled himself from her mouth, the sudden absence of his weight and warmth leaving her disoriented. Her lips felt swollen, her jaw aching. A string of her saliva and his pre-cum stretched between her lips and the glistening head of his cock before breaking.
His eyes, dark and intense, narrowed. He looked from her dazed face down to his own erection, slick and straining. The room was silent except for Kavita’s soft, excited breathing from the corner and the frantic hammering of Meera’s own heart.
“Clean it, ” he commanded, his voice low and rough with unchecked arousal. He held himself steady before her. “Use that pretty tongue. I want it spotless before I decide what to do with you next.”
A fresh wave of heat, equal parts humiliation and raw need, washed over Meera. Her own arousal was a throbbing, wet ache between her legs, a stark contrast to the subservient act demanded of her. This was a new level of debasement, and the sheer force of her reaction to it terrified and exhilarated her. She leaned forward, her long hair falling like a curtain around them.
She extended her tongue, the tip meeting the smooth, fever-hot skin of his crown. The taste of him was musky, salty, uniquely him. She licked a slow, deliberate stripe from the base to the tip, gathering the evidence of her own mouth and his excitement. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive ridge, her movements tentative at first, then growing more confident as a low groan rumbled in Vikram’s chest.
“That’s it, ” Kavita murmured, her voice a husky encouragement from the shadows. “Look at her, Vikram. She’s a natural.”
Meera’s eyes flickered up to his face as she worked. His jaw was clenched, his gaze fixed on her ministrations with a predatory focus. She took the head into her mouth again, not to take him deep, but to suckle gently, her tongue massaging the slit, cleaning him with a dedication that felt both obscene and deeply right. She was hyper-aware of every sensation: the velvety texture of his skin, the pulsing vein beneath her tongue, the way his breath caught when she applied a hint of pressure.
When she finally leaned back, his cock was clean, gleaming under the low light. She looked up at him, her lips parted, waiting for his next command. The air crackled with anticipation.
Vikram’s hand cupped her chin, his thumb stroking her slick lower lip. “Good girl.” The praise sent a jolt straight to her core. “But you’re not done being useful.” His eyes shifted over her shoulder to the couch. “Turn around. On your knees. Face the back of the couch and show Kavita what that frustration looks like.”
Her breath stuttered. The command was so explicit, so visual. She was to present herself, to make a spectacle of her own desperate need for them. Slowly, moving as if in a dream, she pivoted on the soft cushions. The leather was cool against her feverish skin. She got on her knees, her slender back arching instinctively, presenting her rear to the room. She buried her face in the cushion, the world reducing to the scent of leather and her own pounding heartbeat. She felt incredibly exposed, the cool air a shock against her wetness.
She heard Vikram move behind her. A moment later, Kavita was there, kneeling on the floor beside the couch, her dark eyes level with Meera’s most intimate place. “God, Meera, ” Kavita breathed, her voice full of warm admiration. “You’re dripping. It’s beautiful.”
A finger, not Vikram’s, traced her outer lips. Kavita’s. The touch was gentle, exploratory. Meera jerked, a sharp gasp muffled by the cushion.
“So sensitive, ” Kavita cooed. She parted Meera, exposing her completely. “So pink and swollen. All for us.”
Then Vikram was there. Meera felt the weight of him kneel on the couch behind her, his muscular frame crowding her, surrounding her. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, holding her in place. The broad, hot head of his cock nudged against her entrance, not pushing in, just resting there, a promise and a threat.
“You want this?” he growled into her ear, his body blanketing hers.
“Yes, ” she moaned, the word tearing from her, raw and honest.
“You want me to fuck this desperate, wet little cunt? The one you were so eager to touch yourself with?”
“Yes! Please.”
“Then beg Kavita, ” he ordered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “She’s the one watching. She deserves a show. Beg her to let me fuck you.”
The psychological twist was exquisite torture. Her pleasure was now a transaction between the three of them, mediated by Vikram’s control and Kavita’s voyeuristic thrill. Meera turned her head, her cheek against the cushion, and met Kavita’s hungry gaze.
“Kavita, ” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Please... please let him. I need it. I need to feel him.”
Kavita’s smile was radiant, triumphant. She gave a slow, gracious nod. “Okay, sweetie. Okay.”
The permission granted, Vikram didn’t wait. He drove into her in one smooth, powerful thrust, hilting himself completely. Meera cried out, a sharp, guttural sound as he filled her, stretching her, the fullness a shocking relief to the awful, empty ache. Her inner muscles clenched around him instantly, gripping his length.
“Fuck, ” Vikram hissed, his composure cracking for a second at the tight, wet heat surrounding him.
He began to move, setting a punishing rhythm from the very start. His thrusts were deep and measured, each one punching a moan from her lungs. The slick, wet sound of their joining filled the room. Meera’s world narrowed to the feeling of him pistoning inside her, the bite of his fingers on her hips, and the sight of Kavita’s enraptured face just inches away, watching it all.
Kavita reached out, her fingers gently circling Meera’s clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming�the deep, internal pounding and the focused, exquisite friction on her most sensitive nerve. Meera’s back arched violently, a broken stream of pleas and curses falling from her lips.
“That’s it, ” Kavita encouraged, her own breathing ragged. “Come for us, Meera. Let us see you.”
The coil of pleasure in Meera’s belly, wound so tightly for so long, snapped. Her orgasm ripped through her with a force that stole her vision, a silent scream caught in her throat as her body convulsed around Vikram’s relentless thrusts. Waves of pure, searing pleasure radiated out from her core, shaking her to her foundation.
Feeling her climax, Vikram’s rhythm fractured. With a final, deep grind, he buried himself to the hilt and followed her over the edge. She felt the hot, pulsing release of his orgasm inside her, each jet a branding claim. He held himself there, his body taut against hers, a low, continuous groan vibrating through his chest and into her own.
For a long moment, no one moved. The only sounds were their ragged breaths. Meera felt boneless, utterly spent, her body humming with the aftershocks.
Vikram slowly pulled out of her, the sensation making her shiver. She felt the warm trickle of their combined release down her inner thigh. He collapsed beside her on the couch, one heavy arm thrown across her back.
Kavita rose from the floor, her eyes shining with a dark, satisfied glow. She looked from Meera’s thoroughly used body to Vikram’s relaxed form. She didn’t reach for a towel or a cloth. Instead, she simply watched the evidence of their union gleam on Meera’s skin.
Vikram’s voice was a low rumble, thick with sated lust. “Leave it".
The command hung in the air, a final layer of possession. Meera lay still beneath Vikram’s arm, her skin cooling, her muscles like liquid. Kavita’s gaze was a physical weight, tracing the wetness on Meera’s thigh. A slow, possessive smile curved Kavita’s lips.
She didn’t speak. Instead, she moved with a fluid grace that was all her own. She climbed onto the couch, one knee sinking into the cushions near Meera’s hip, then the other, her movements creating a shift in the atmosphere. The old leather sighed under her weight. She didn’t look at Vikram; her dark, captivating eyes were locked on Meera’s, holding her in a trance.
Kavita swung a leg over Meera’s supine form, her thighs framing Meera’s shoulders. The scent of her, musky and sweet from her own arousal, filled Meera’s nostrils. Kavita lowered herself, not onto Meera’s mouth, but just above it, her core hovering inches from Meera’s face, a dark and glistening promise. Meera’s breath caught in her chest, her eyes wide.
“Look at you, ” Kavita murmured, her voice a husky whisper. “Absolutely perfect.”
From behind, Vikram shifted. His heavy arm slid off Meera’s back. She felt the couch dip as he moved, his presence a constant, dominating force. His hands, large and knowing, gripped her hips, lifting her, turning her onto her side to face the back of the couch before rolling her onto her stomach. The movement was effortless, a testament to his strength. He positioned her on her knees, her ass in the air, her face buried now in the soft, wet heat between Kavita’s legs. Kavita ground down gently, a soft, approving sound escaping her as she finally made contact with Meera’s mouth.
Meera’s world narrowed to sensation. The taste of Kavita, tangy and rich, exploded on her tongue. The weight of her, the soft curls brushing her nose. Her own body was alight again, a fire stoked anew by this complete surrender. She opened her mouth wider, her tongue flattening, seeking to please, to taste more.
Then she felt Vikram’s hands spread her apart. The air was cool on her most intimate skin for a single second before his mouth was on her. Not where she expected. Lower. His tongue, hot and impossibly agile, traced a firm, wet circle around the tight, forbidden knot of her anus.
Meera jerked, a muffled cry of shock and dizzying pleasure swallowed by Kavita’s flesh. Her back arched instinctively.
Vikram’s hands clamped on her hips, holding her firmly in place. “Stay.” The single word, growled against her skin, vibrated through her entire body, a command that brooked no argument. It was a threat and a promise.
He did it again. His tongue laved her, a slow, relentless pressure that made her toes curl against the couch cushions. It was a violation so complete, so intimate, it shattered the last of her shyness. This was what she had secretly wondered about, what her curiosity had only ever let her brush against in the dark. Now it was laid bare under his commanding tongue.
Kavita moaned above her, rolling her hips, pushing herself harder against Meera’s searching mouth. “That’s it, Meera. Yes. Taste me. Don’t be shy now.”
The dual sensations were overwhelming. The musky taste of one woman filling her mouth, the illicit, searing heat of the man’s tongue at her other entrance. Meera felt like the center of a perfect, writhing storm. Her own moans were lost, her pleasure given voice only through the frantic movement of her tongue on Kavita’s clit.
Vikram’s ministrations grew more intense. He wasn’t just licking; he was feasting. His tongue pressed and circled, then probed, the very tip of it breaching her, making her gasp. Just as the shocking, full feeling began to register, she felt the slick pressure of a finger, lubed with his own spit, pressing alongside his tongue.
He worked it slowly, with an infuriating, exquisite patience, easing the tight ring of muscle. The stretch was a bright, sharp pain that instantly melted into a deep, rolling wave of pleasure. She was being opened, claimed in a way she had never imagined. Her inner muscles fluttered wildly around the intrusion, a helpless response.
Kavita was rocking in a steady rhythm above, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “God, your mouth... so good... fuck, Meera.”
Vikram added a second finger, the stretch becoming a breathtaking burn. Meera cried out, the sound muffled and desperate. He curled his fingers inside her, searching, and a jolt of pure, electric pleasure shot through her core, so intense her vision spotted. She bucked against his face, her body no longer her own to control.
The three of them were a single, connected circuit of pleasure. Meera’s tongue drove Kavita higher; Vikram’s mouth and fingers pushed Meera to the brink; the sounds of their shared ecstasy fueled them all. Meera was the conduit, the vulnerable, yielding center of it all, and the power of that, the sheer surrender, was more intoxicating than any command.
Kavita’s thighs began to tremble around Meera’s head. Her moans pitched higher. “I’m so close... don’t stop...”
Vikram’s free hand snaked around Meera’s hip, his thumb finding her clit, which was swollen and throbbing. He pressed down, rubbing rough, tight circles that were utterly devoid of gentleness. It was too much. The penetration from behind, the relentless pressure on her clit, the taste of Kavita’s climax on her tongue�it coalesced into an unbearable tension.
Meera’s body went rigid, every muscle straining. A high, thin whine escaped her, trapped against Kavita’s skin. The orgasm ripped through her, a silent, seismic event that left her shaking, her walls clenching around Vikram’s fingers, her vision whiting out.
Above her, Kavita let out a sharp, keening cry and ground down hard, her own release pulsing against Meera’s lips. Meera drank it down, the final act of submission.
For a moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing and the wet, soft sounds of withdrawal. Vikram slowly pulled his fingers free, the sensation making Meera twitch. He gave her a final, slow, possessive lick.
Kavita lifted herself, collapsing back onto the couch, her chest heaving. Meera slumped forward, her face wet, her body utterly spent, buzzing with an exhaustion so profound it felt like a new form of consciousness.
Vikram moved. The couch shifted. He didn’t lie down. He stood up, looking down at the two women, a dark, satisfied look in his intense eyes. His erection was still there, thick and demanding.
He put a hand on Kavita’s knee. “Move, ” he said, his voice low. “My turn.”