u/Distinct-Fee9548

I’m 25, working in Pune as a software engineer. I live in a 1BHK in Hinjewadi. My best friend since college is Arjun same age as me, tall, good-looking, and a bit of a fuckboy. He recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years.

Her name is Riya. She’s 27, works in HR at an MNC. Riya is the definition of a hidden gem. She’s not super slim, but thick in all the right places 36C breasts, a soft waist, wide hips, and a big, juicy ass that looks incredible in jeans. She has fair skin, long wavy hair, and innocent-looking eyes that hide how dirty she can actually be.

It all started two weeks ago.

It was a rainy Friday night. I was alone at my flat, drinking whiskey and watching a match. Around 10:30 PM, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was Riya completely drenched, eyes red and swollen from crying, mascara running down her cheeks.

She looked broken.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go,” she said, voice shaking. “I saw Arjun with another girl tonight. They were kissing outside a bar. He moved on so fucking fast.”

I pulled her inside, gave her a towel and one of my t-shirts. We sat on the couch while she cried and told me everything. How Arjun had been ignoring her for months, how he cheated multiple times, and how she still loved him but felt completely used.

I comforted her, hugged her, and told her she deserved better. She cried in my arms for a long time. Then something shifted.

She looked up at me, eyes still wet, and whispered:

“I know this is wrong… but I need to feel wanted right now. Can you make me forget him?”

I kissed her forehead first, then her lips. The kiss started gentle but quickly turned hungry. She was kissing me desperately, like she was starving. Her hands moved down and grabbed my cock over my shorts.

“I want you,” she moaned into my mouth. “I want you to fuck me tonight.”

We moved to my bedroom. I undressed her slowly. Her body was incredible big, soft 36C tits with pinkish-brown nipples, a cute little belly, and that thick, round ass. Her pussy was neatly trimmed with plump lips already glistening.

I laid her on the bed and went down on her. The moment I licked her clit, Riya moaned loudly.

“Oh fuck… yes… eat my pussy… I haven’t been eaten properly in so long.”

I sucked and fingered her until she came hard, shaking and pulling my hair. She was extremely vocal.

After she recovered, she pushed me on my back, pulled my cock out, and looked at me with hungry eyes.

“I want to taste you.”

She gave me one of the sloppiest, nastiest blowjobs I’ve ever received. She was drooling, gagging, and looking into my eyes while sucking me.

“You like how your best friend’s ex is sucking your cock?” she asked filthily, stroking me. “I’m going to be your cumslut from now on.”

She climbed on top and sank down on my cock in one go. She was soaking wet. She started riding me hard, her big tits bouncing wildly.

“Fuck me harder… Use me… I’m your whore tonight,” she moaned.

I flipped her into missionary, put her legs on my shoulders, and pounded her deep. Her tits were jiggling, her eyes rolling back.

“Tell me how much you want my cum,” I growled.

“I want it so bad… Fill me up… Creampie my pussy… I want your hot load inside me.”

I fucked her harder. She came again, screaming, her pussy squeezing my cock.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried myself deep and came hard inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum into her pussy. She moaned like a slut while feeling me throb inside her.

But she wasn’t done.

After I pulled out, she quickly went down and sucked my cock clean, tasting both of us.

“Mmm… your cum tastes so good mixed with my juices,” she said, licking every drop.

We fucked two more times that night. Once in doggy style where I spanked her big ass red while calling her “Arjun’s ex-turned-cumslut”, and once in the morning where she woke me up by riding me slowly, begging for another creampie.

Since that night, Riya has become completely addicted. She comes to my flat 2-3 times a week. She’s turned into the ultimate cumslut she loves swallowing my load, getting creampied, and sending me videos of her fingering my cum out of her pussy at her own flat.

She once told me while I was fucking her:

“Arjun never made me feel like this. You own this pussy now. Use it whenever you want.”

I know this is risky as fuck. She’s my best friend’s ex. If he ever finds out, it’ll destroy our friendship. But I can’t stop.

Riya has gone from a crying, heartbroken girl to my personal, cock-hungry cumslut.

And honestly… I’m loving every second of it.

I’m 25, working in Pune as a software engineer. I live in a 1BHK in Hinjewadi. My best friend since college is Arjun same age as me, tall, good-looking, and a bit of a fuckboy. He recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years.

Her name is Riya. She’s 27, works in HR at an MNC. Riya is the definition of a hidden gem. She’s not super slim, but thick in all the right places 36C breasts, a soft waist, wide hips, and a big, juicy ass that looks incredible in jeans. She has fair skin, long wavy hair, and innocent-looking eyes that hide how dirty she can actually be.

It all started two weeks ago.

It was a rainy Friday night. I was alone at my flat, drinking whiskey and watching a match. Around 10:30 PM, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was Riya completely drenched, eyes red and swollen from crying, mascara running down her cheeks.

She looked broken.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go,” she said, voice shaking. “I saw Arjun with another girl tonight. They were kissing outside a bar. He moved on so fucking fast.”

I pulled her inside, gave her a towel and one of my t-shirts. We sat on the couch while she cried and told me everything. How Arjun had been ignoring her for months, how he cheated multiple times, and how she still loved him but felt completely used.

I comforted her, hugged her, and told her she deserved better. She cried in my arms for a long time. Then something shifted.

She looked up at me, eyes still wet, and whispered:

“I know this is wrong… but I need to feel wanted right now. Can you make me forget him?”

I kissed her forehead first, then her lips. The kiss started gentle but quickly turned hungry. She was kissing me desperately, like she was starving. Her hands moved down and grabbed my cock over my shorts.

“I want you,” she moaned into my mouth. “I want you to fuck me tonight.”

We moved to my bedroom. I undressed her slowly. Her body was incredible big, soft 36C tits with pinkish-brown nipples, a cute little belly, and that thick, round ass. Her pussy was neatly trimmed with plump lips already glistening.

I laid her on the bed and went down on her. The moment I licked her clit, Riya moaned loudly.

“Oh fuck… yes… eat my pussy… I haven’t been eaten properly in so long.”

I sucked and fingered her until she came hard, shaking and pulling my hair. She was extremely vocal.

After she recovered, she pushed me on my back, pulled my cock out, and looked at me with hungry eyes.

“I want to taste you.”

She gave me one of the sloppiest, nastiest blowjobs I’ve ever received. She was drooling, gagging, and looking into my eyes while sucking me.

“You like how your best friend’s ex is sucking your cock?” she asked filthily, stroking me. “I’m going to be your cumslut from now on.”

She climbed on top and sank down on my cock in one go. She was soaking wet. She started riding me hard, her big tits bouncing wildly.

“Fuck me harder… Use me… I’m your whore tonight,” she moaned.

I flipped her into missionary, put her legs on my shoulders, and pounded her deep. Her tits were jiggling, her eyes rolling back.

“Tell me how much you want my cum,” I growled.

“I want it so bad… Fill me up… Creampie my pussy… I want your hot load inside me.”

I fucked her harder. She came again, screaming, her pussy squeezing my cock.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried myself deep and came hard inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum into her pussy. She moaned like a slut while feeling me throb inside her.

But she wasn’t done.

After I pulled out, she quickly went down and sucked my cock clean, tasting both of us.

“Mmm… your cum tastes so good mixed with my juices,” she said, licking every drop.

We fucked two more times that night. Once in doggy style where I spanked her big ass red while calling her “Arjun’s ex-turned-cumslut”, and once in the morning where she woke me up by riding me slowly, begging for another creampie.

Since that night, Riya has become completely addicted. She comes to my flat 2-3 times a week. She’s turned into the ultimate cumslut she loves swallowing my load, getting creampied, and sending me videos of her fingering my cum out of her pussy at her own flat.

She once told me while I was fucking her:

“Arjun never made me feel like this. You own this pussy now. Use it whenever you want.”

I know this is risky as fuck. She’s my best friend’s ex. If he ever finds out, it’ll destroy our friendship. But I can’t stop.

Riya has gone from a crying, heartbroken girl to my personal, cock-hungry cumslut.

And honestly… I’m loving every second of it.

I’m 25, working in Pune as a software engineer. I live in a 1BHK in Hinjewadi. My best friend since college is Arjun same age as me, tall, good-looking, and a bit of a fuckboy. He recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years.

Her name is Riya. She’s 27, works in HR at an MNC. Riya is the definition of a hidden gem. She’s not super slim, but thick in all the right places 36C breasts, a soft waist, wide hips, and a big, juicy ass that looks incredible in jeans. She has fair skin, long wavy hair, and innocent-looking eyes that hide how dirty she can actually be.

It all started two weeks ago.

It was a rainy Friday night. I was alone at my flat, drinking whiskey and watching a match. Around 10:30 PM, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was Riya completely drenched, eyes red and swollen from crying, mascara running down her cheeks.

She looked broken.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go,” she said, voice shaking. “I saw Arjun with another girl tonight. They were kissing outside a bar. He moved on so fucking fast.”

I pulled her inside, gave her a towel and one of my t-shirts. We sat on the couch while she cried and told me everything. How Arjun had been ignoring her for months, how he cheated multiple times, and how she still loved him but felt completely used.

I comforted her, hugged her, and told her she deserved better. She cried in my arms for a long time. Then something shifted.

She looked up at me, eyes still wet, and whispered:

“I know this is wrong… but I need to feel wanted right now. Can you make me forget him?”

I kissed her forehead first, then her lips. The kiss started gentle but quickly turned hungry. She was kissing me desperately, like she was starving. Her hands moved down and grabbed my cock over my shorts.

“I want you,” she moaned into my mouth. “I want you to fuck me tonight.”

We moved to my bedroom. I undressed her slowly. Her body was incredible big, soft 36C tits with pinkish-brown nipples, a cute little belly, and that thick, round ass. Her pussy was neatly trimmed with plump lips already glistening.

I laid her on the bed and went down on her. The moment I licked her clit, Riya moaned loudly.

“Oh fuck… yes… eat my pussy… I haven’t been eaten properly in so long.”

I sucked and fingered her until she came hard, shaking and pulling my hair. She was extremely vocal.

After she recovered, she pushed me on my back, pulled my cock out, and looked at me with hungry eyes.

“I want to taste you.”

She gave me one of the sloppiest, nastiest blowjobs I’ve ever received. She was drooling, gagging, and looking into my eyes while sucking me.

“You like how your best friend’s ex is sucking your cock?” she asked filthily, stroking me. “I’m going to be your cumslut from now on.”

She climbed on top and sank down on my cock in one go. She was soaking wet. She started riding me hard, her big tits bouncing wildly.

“Fuck me harder… Use me… I’m your whore tonight,” she moaned.

I flipped her into missionary, put her legs on my shoulders, and pounded her deep. Her tits were jiggling, her eyes rolling back.

“Tell me how much you want my cum,” I growled.

“I want it so bad… Fill me up… Creampie my pussy… I want your hot load inside me.”

I fucked her harder. She came again, screaming, her pussy squeezing my cock.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried myself deep and came hard inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum into her pussy. She moaned like a slut while feeling me throb inside her.

But she wasn’t done.

After I pulled out, she quickly went down and sucked my cock clean, tasting both of us.

“Mmm… your cum tastes so good mixed with my juices,” she said, licking every drop.

We fucked two more times that night. Once in doggy style where I spanked her big ass red while calling her “Arjun’s ex-turned-cumslut”, and once in the morning where she woke me up by riding me slowly, begging for another creampie.

Since that night, Riya has become completely addicted. She comes to my flat 2-3 times a week. She’s turned into the ultimate cumslut she loves swallowing my load, getting creampied, and sending me videos of her fingering my cum out of her pussy at her own flat.

She once told me while I was fucking her:

“Arjun never made me feel like this. You own this pussy now. Use it whenever you want.”

I know this is risky as fuck. She’s my best friend’s ex. If he ever finds out, it’ll destroy our friendship. But I can’t stop.

Riya has gone from a crying, heartbroken girl to my personal, cock-hungry cumslut.

And honestly… I’m loving every second of it.

I’m 25, working in Pune as a software engineer. I live in a 1BHK in Hinjewadi. My best friend since college is Arjun same age as me, tall, good-looking, and a bit of a fuckboy. He recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years.

Her name is Riya. She’s 27, works in HR at an MNC. Riya is the definition of a hidden gem. She’s not super slim, but thick in all the right places 36C breasts, a soft waist, wide hips, and a big, juicy ass that looks incredible in jeans. She has fair skin, long wavy hair, and innocent-looking eyes that hide how dirty she can actually be.

It all started two weeks ago.

It was a rainy Friday night. I was alone at my flat, drinking whiskey and watching a match. Around 10:30 PM, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was Riya completely drenched, eyes red and swollen from crying, mascara running down her cheeks.

She looked broken.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go,” she said, voice shaking. “I saw Arjun with another girl tonight. They were kissing outside a bar. He moved on so fucking fast.”

I pulled her inside, gave her a towel and one of my t-shirts. We sat on the couch while she cried and told me everything. How Arjun had been ignoring her for months, how he cheated multiple times, and how she still loved him but felt completely used.

I comforted her, hugged her, and told her she deserved better. She cried in my arms for a long time. Then something shifted.

She looked up at me, eyes still wet, and whispered:

“I know this is wrong… but I need to feel wanted right now. Can you make me forget him?”

I kissed her forehead first, then her lips. The kiss started gentle but quickly turned hungry. She was kissing me desperately, like she was starving. Her hands moved down and grabbed my cock over my shorts.

“I want you,” she moaned into my mouth. “I want you to fuck me tonight.”

We moved to my bedroom. I undressed her slowly. Her body was incredible big, soft 36C tits with pinkish-brown nipples, a cute little belly, and that thick, round ass. Her pussy was neatly trimmed with plump lips already glistening.

I laid her on the bed and went down on her. The moment I licked her clit, Riya moaned loudly.

“Oh fuck… yes… eat my pussy… I haven’t been eaten properly in so long.”

I sucked and fingered her until she came hard, shaking and pulling my hair. She was extremely vocal.

After she recovered, she pushed me on my back, pulled my cock out, and looked at me with hungry eyes.

“I want to taste you.”

She gave me one of the sloppiest, nastiest blowjobs I’ve ever received. She was drooling, gagging, and looking into my eyes while sucking me.

“You like how your best friend’s ex is sucking your cock?” she asked filthily, stroking me. “I’m going to be your cumslut from now on.”

She climbed on top and sank down on my cock in one go. She was soaking wet. She started riding me hard, her big tits bouncing wildly.

“Fuck me harder… Use me… I’m your whore tonight,” she moaned.

I flipped her into missionary, put her legs on my shoulders, and pounded her deep. Her tits were jiggling, her eyes rolling back.

“Tell me how much you want my cum,” I growled.

“I want it so bad… Fill me up… Creampie my pussy… I want your hot load inside me.”

I fucked her harder. She came again, screaming, her pussy squeezing my cock.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried myself deep and came hard inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum into her pussy. She moaned like a slut while feeling me throb inside her.

But she wasn’t done.

After I pulled out, she quickly went down and sucked my cock clean, tasting both of us.

“Mmm… your cum tastes so good mixed with my juices,” she said, licking every drop.

We fucked two more times that night. Once in doggy style where I spanked her big ass red while calling her “Arjun’s ex-turned-cumslut”, and once in the morning where she woke me up by riding me slowly, begging for another creampie.

Since that night, Riya has become completely addicted. She comes to my flat 2-3 times a week. She’s turned into the ultimate cumslut she loves swallowing my load, getting creampied, and sending me videos of her fingering my cum out of her pussy at her own flat.

She once told me while I was fucking her:

“Arjun never made me feel like this. You own this pussy now. Use it whenever you want.”

I know this is risky as fuck. She’s my best friend’s ex. If he ever finds out, it’ll destroy our friendship. But I can’t stop.

Riya has gone from a crying, heartbroken girl to my personal, cock-hungry cumslut.

And honestly… I’m loving every second of it.

I’m 25, working in Pune as a software engineer. I live in a 1BHK in Hinjewadi. My best friend since college is Arjun same age as me, tall, good-looking, and a bit of a fuckboy. He recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years.

Her name is Riya. She’s 27, works in HR at an MNC. Riya is the definition of a hidden gem. She’s not super slim, but thick in all the right places 36C breasts, a soft waist, wide hips, and a big, juicy ass that looks incredible in jeans. She has fair skin, long wavy hair, and innocent-looking eyes that hide how dirty she can actually be.

It all started two weeks ago.

It was a rainy Friday night. I was alone at my flat, drinking whiskey and watching a match. Around 10:30 in the evening, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was Riya completely drenched, eyes red and swollen from crying, mascara running down her cheeks.

She looked broken.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go,” she said, voice shaking. “I saw Arjun with another girl tonight. They were kissing outside a bar. He moved on so fucking fast.”

I pulled her inside, gave her a towel and one of my t-shirts. We sat on the couch while she cried and told me everything. How Arjun had been ignoring her for months, how he cheated multiple times, and how she still loved him but felt completely used.

I comforted her, hugged her, and told her she deserved better. She cried in my arms for a long time. Then something shifted.

She looked up at me, eyes still wet, and whispered:

“I know this is wrong… but I need to feel wanted right now. Can you make me forget him?”

I kissed her forehead first, then her lips. The kiss started gentle but quickly turned hungry. She was kissing me desperately, like she was starving. Her hands moved down and grabbed my cock over my shorts.

“I want you,” she moaned into my mouth. “I want you to fuck me tonight.”

We moved to my bedroom. I undressed her slowly. Her body was incredible big, soft 36C tits with pinkish-brown nipples, a cute little belly, and that thick, round ass. Her pussy was neatly trimmed with plump lips already glistening.

I laid her on the bed and went down on her. The moment I licked her clit, Riya moaned loudly.

“Oh fuck… yes… eat my pussy… I haven’t been eaten properly in so long.”

I sucked and fingered her until she came hard, shaking and pulling my hair. She was extremely vocal.

After she recovered, she pushed me on my back, pulled my cock out, and looked at me with hungry eyes.

“I want to taste you.”

She gave me one of the sloppiest, nastiest blowjobs I’ve ever received. She was drooling, gagging, and looking into my eyes while sucking me.

“You like how your best friend’s ex is sucking your cock?” she asked filthily, stroking me. “I’m going to be your cumslut from now on.”

She climbed on top and sank down on my cock in one go. She was soaking wet. She started riding me hard, her big tits bouncing wildly.

“Fuck me harder… Use me… I’m your whore tonight,” she moaned.

I flipped her into missionary, put her legs on my shoulders, and pounded her deep. Her tits were jiggling, her eyes rolling back.

“Tell me how much you want my cum,” I growled.

“I want it so bad… Fill me up… Creampie my pussy… I want your hot load inside me.”

I fucked her harder. She came again, screaming, her pussy squeezing my cock.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried myself deep and came hard inside her, pumping thick ropes of cum into her pussy. She moaned like a slut while feeling me throb inside her.

But she wasn’t done.

After I pulled out, she quickly went down and sucked my cock clean, tasting both of us.

“Mmm… your cum tastes so good mixed with my juices,” she said, licking every drop.

We fucked two more times that night. Once in doggy style where I spanked her big ass red while calling her “Arjun’s ex-turned-cumslut”, and once in the morning where she woke me up by riding me slowly, begging for another creampie.

Since that night, Riya has become completely addicted. She comes to my flat 2-3 times a week. She’s turned into the ultimate cumslut she loves swallowing my load, getting creampied, and sending me videos of her fingering my cum out of her pussy at her own flat.

She once told me while I was fucking her:

“Arjun never made me feel like this. You own this pussy now. Use it whenever you want.”

I know this is risky as fuck. She’s my best friend’s ex. If he ever finds out, it’ll destroy our friendship. But I can’t stop.

Riya has gone from a crying, heartbroken girl to my personal, cock-hungry cumslut.

And honestly… I’m loving every second of it.

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I don’t even know where to begin with this update. This is easily the most insane 36 hours of my life.

Part - 1 : First confession

Saturday night, Anjali and I were drinking at home. We finished a bottle of whiskey between the two of us while watching random shows. Around 1 AM, both of us were pretty drunk. The conversation got loose and personal. After a long silence, I finally broke down and confessed everything.

I told her I had been sniffing her used panties for months. That I couldn’t stop. That I felt like a disgusting pervert but still did it almost every time she left them in the laundry basket. I even told her I had written about it on Reddit. My voice was shaking. I kept saying “I’m so sorry” again and again, expecting her to scream, slap me, or tell me to move out immediately.

Instead, she just stared at me quietly for almost a full minute, sipping her drink.

Then she said something I’ll never forget:

“I know.”

My heart nearly stopped. She told me she had found my Reddit account weeks ago while I was in the shower and my laptop was open. She had read the entire post. She knew every detail.

I started panicking and apologizing even more, but she cut me off.

“Stop. Just… stop,” she said softly. Then she stood up, a little unsteady from the whiskey, looked me dead in the eyes, and slowly pulled up her nightdress. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of the black panties she had been wearing all day at work and slid them down her legs.

She stepped out of them and held the warm, worn panties in her hand. The crotch was visibly damp.

She walked closer, dangling them in front of my face, and said in a low voice:

“I’ve been wearing these since 8 this morning. Meetings, cab rides, sweating in this heat… everything. Why don’t you tell me how they smell?”

I was frozen. My hands were trembling as I took the panties from her. They were still warm from her body. The crotch was noticeably wet. I brought them to my nose with her watching me.

The smell was strong thick, tangy, musky, and slightly sour. That perfect end-of-day pussy scent mixed with her sweat. I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath.

“Fuck… Anjali,” I whispered.

She smiled, a mix of drunk confidence and something darker. “Tell me properly. Describe it.”

“It smells like your pussy… really strong and wet. It’s making me so fucking hard right now.”

That was all it took.

She pushed me back on the couch and climbed on top of me. We started making out like animals sloppy, drunk, hungry kisses. Her tongue was aggressive; her hands were in my hair. I was groping her ass, squeezing her soft body while still holding her dirty panties in one hand.

She pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered, “You’ve been jerking off to my smell for months? Then smell them while you touch me.”

I pressed her used panties against my face while she pulled my cock out and started stroking me slowly. Her grip was perfect. She kept whispering filthy things:

“You’re such a dirty boy… sniffing my panties like a pervert… Does my dirty pussy smell good?”

I was losing my mind.

We somehow moved to her bedroom. She stripped completely and pushed me onto her bed. I was still holding her panties. She straddled me, took the panties from my hand, and pressed the wet crotch against my nose while slowly sinking down on my cock.

She rode me raw at first, grinding deep, her heavy tits bouncing in my face. Then she reached into her drawer, pulled out a condom, tore it open with her teeth, and rolled it on me before sliding back down.

“Keep smelling them,” she ordered.

I buried my face in her worn panties while she fucked me harder, moaning loudly:

“You like my dirty smell, don’t you? Sniff harder… fuck, I’m so wet because of you…”

She rode me like she was possessed fast, deep, and aggressive. The sound of her wet pussy slapping against me was loud in the room. She came first, shaking and cursing, her nails digging into my chest. I followed right after, groaning into her panties as I filled the condom.

We passed out naked, tangled together in her bed.

 

Sunday morning:

I woke up first. The alcohol had worn off and the reality hit me like a truck. I was terrified again. I went to the kitchen quietly and started making coffee, expecting awkwardness or regret from her.

Ten minutes later she walked in, still naked. Before I could say anything, she grabbed my face and kissed me hard deep, passionate, and possessive. All the tension melted instantly.

We fucked twice more yesterday.

Once on the kitchen counter while the coffee was getting cold. The second time was slower, in her bed again, with her on all fours while I took her from behind. She kept telling me how she used to get wet thinking about me possibly smelling her panties.

She left for work an hour ago, looking completely normal, like nothing happened.

And here I am… writing this confession while she’s probably going to read every comment when she gets back.

I have no idea what’s going to happen now. This went from my darkest secret to us fucking like rabbits in less than 36 hours. I’m still processing everything.

I’ll update again if anything major happens.

 

I’ve carried this secret for almost a year now, and it still makes me feel like a creep sometimes. I’m not proud of it. In fact, most days I feel disgusted with myself, but I still do it.

Her name is Anjali. She’s 25, my colleague and now roommate. We both work at the same IT company in Hyderabad. When her previous flatmate moved out last year, she asked if I could share the 2BHK with her since rent was getting expensive. I agreed. We’ve always had a friendly, slightly flirty vibe, but nothing ever happened.

It started very innocently.

One evening she came back from the gym, took a shower, and left her used clothes in the common laundry basket in the bathroom. I went in to pee and saw her light pink panty sitting on top. It wasn’t something I planned. I just… picked it up.

The first thing I noticed was the warmth. It was still slightly warm from her body.

I hesitantly brought it closer to my nose.

The smell was subtle but intimate. A soft, warm, feminine scent a mix of her natural body odor, a little sweat from the gym, and that distinct mild musky smell of her pussy. It wasn’t overpowering or “filthy” like in porn. It was just… very human. Slightly tangy, a little salty, with a faint sweet note underneath. The crotch area had a small, pale yellowish stain and was slightly damp in the middle.

I felt my heart racing and my face getting hot. I knew it was wrong, but I pressed the fabric against my nose and took a slow, deep breath. That scent did something to me. My cock got hard almost instantly.

I only sniffed it for maybe 20–30 seconds that first time. Then I felt guilty, put it back exactly how I found it, and went to my room. I jerked off thinking about her, feeling ashamed the entire time.

But it didn’t stop there.

Over the next few months, it became a quiet habit. Whenever she left her used panties in the basket (which was often, since we share the laundry), I would check them. Some days the scent was very light just a soft, clean feminine smell. On days she had long office hours or came back from the gym, the scent was stronger, more concentrated, more intimate. I could clearly smell her pussy on the fabric. That slightly sour, musky, lived-in smell.

The most intense times were when she was ovulating. I don’t know how I could tell, but the smell would be thicker, richer, almost creamy. Those panties would have more discharge white or pale yellow marks on the crotch. I would stand in the bathroom, heart pounding, scared she might suddenly come home, and sniff them slowly, deeply. Sometimes I would lick the fabric gently, tasting the faint salty tang.

I never stole them or kept them for long. I always put them back after a few minutes. The guilt after I cum is always heavy. I’ve promised myself dozens of times that I’ll stop, but I haven’t been able to.

What makes it worse is that Anjali and I have become quite close. We watch movies together, cook sometimes, and talk about our lives. She sees me as a decent, trustworthy guy. If she ever found out that I secretly smell her dirty panties and jerk off to her scent, she would probably never speak to me again.

I don’t even have a big panty fetish. It’s specifically her. There’s something about knowing that this piece of cloth was pressed against her pussy all day touching her most private area while she attended meetings, traveled in cabs, and lived her normal life that turns me on like nothing else.

It feels deeply violating and intimate at the same time.

I know this is not normal. I know it’s a betrayal of her trust. But I still do it.

And every time I catch that warm, musky, personal scent of hers… I lose control for those few minutes.

That’s my confession.

 

I’ve carried this secret for almost a year now, and it still makes me feel like a creep sometimes. I’m not proud of it. In fact, most days I feel disgusted with myself, but I still do it.

Her name is Anjali. She’s 29, my colleague and now roommate. We both work at the same IT company in Hyderabad. When her previous flatmate moved out last year, she asked if I could share the 2BHK with her since rent was getting expensive. I agreed. We’ve always had a friendly, slightly flirty vibe, but nothing ever happened.

It started very innocently.

One evening she came back from the gym, took a shower, and left her used clothes in the common laundry basket in the bathroom. I went in to pee and saw her light pink panty sitting on top. It wasn’t something I planned. I just… picked it up.

The first thing I noticed was the warmth. It was still slightly warm from her body.

I hesitantly brought it closer to my nose.

The smell was subtle but intimate. A soft, warm, feminine scent a mix of her natural body odor, a little sweat from the gym, and that distinct mild musky smell of her pussy. It wasn’t overpowering or “filthy” like in porn. It was just… very human. Slightly tangy, a little salty, with a faint sweet note underneath. The crotch area had a small, pale yellowish stain and was slightly damp in the middle.

I felt my heart racing and my face getting hot. I knew it was wrong, but I pressed the fabric against my nose and took a slow, deep breath. That scent did something to me. My cock got hard almost instantly.

I only sniffed it for maybe 20–30 seconds that first time. Then I felt guilty, put it back exactly how I found it, and went to my room. I jerked off thinking about her, feeling ashamed the entire time.

But it didn’t stop there.

Over the next few months, it became a quiet habit. Whenever she left her used panties in the basket (which was often, since we share the laundry), I would check them. Some days the scent was very light just a soft, clean feminine smell. On days she had long office hours or came back from the gym, the scent was stronger, more concentrated, more intimate. I could clearly smell her pussy on the fabric. That slightly sour, musky, lived-in smell.

The most intense times were when she was ovulating. I don’t know how I could tell, but the smell would be thicker, richer, almost creamy. Those panties would have more discharge white or pale yellow marks on the crotch. I would stand in the bathroom, heart pounding, scared she might suddenly come home, and sniff them slowly, deeply. Sometimes I would lick the fabric gently, tasting the faint salty tang.

I never stole them or kept them for long. I always put them back after a few minutes. The guilt after I cum is always heavy. I’ve promised myself dozens of times that I’ll stop, but I haven’t been able to.

What makes it worse is that Anjali and I have become quite close. We watch movies together, cook sometimes, and talk about our lives. She sees me as a decent, trustworthy guy. If she ever found out that I secretly smell her dirty panties and jerk off to her scent, she would probably never speak to me again.

I don’t even have a big panty fetish. It’s specifically her. There’s something about knowing that this piece of cloth was pressed against her pussy all day touching her most private area while she attended meetings, traveled in cabs, and lived her normal life that turns me on like nothing else.

It feels deeply violating and intimate at the same time.

I know this is not normal. I know it’s a betrayal of her trust. But I still do it.

And every time I catch that warm, musky, personal scent of hers… I lose control for those few minutes.

That’s my confession.

 

I’ve carried this secret for almost a year now, and it still makes me feel like a creep sometimes. I’m not proud of it. In fact, most days I feel disgusted with myself, but I still do it.

Her name is Anjali. She’s 29, my colleague and now roommate. We both work at the same IT company in Hyderabad. When her previous flatmate moved out last year, she asked if I could share the 2BHK with her since rent was getting expensive. I agreed. We’ve always had a friendly, slightly flirty vibe, but nothing ever happened.

It started very innocently.

One evening she came back from the gym, took a shower, and left her used clothes in the common laundry basket in the bathroom. I went in to pee and saw her light pink panty sitting on top. It wasn’t something I planned. I just… picked it up.

The first thing I noticed was the warmth. It was still slightly warm from her body.

I hesitantly brought it closer to my nose.

The smell was subtle but intimate. A soft, warm, feminine scent a mix of her natural body odor, a little sweat from the gym, and that distinct mild musky smell of her pussy. It wasn’t overpowering or “filthy” like in porn. It was just… very human. Slightly tangy, a little salty, with a faint sweet note underneath. The crotch area had a small, pale yellowish stain and was slightly damp in the middle.

I felt my heart racing and my face getting hot. I knew it was wrong, but I pressed the fabric against my nose and took a slow, deep breath. That scent did something to me. My cock got hard almost instantly.

I only sniffed it for maybe 20–30 seconds that first time. Then I felt guilty, put it back exactly how I found it, and went to my room. I jerked off thinking about her, feeling ashamed the entire time.

But it didn’t stop there.

Over the next few months, it became a quiet habit. Whenever she left her used panties in the basket (which was often, since we share the laundry), I would check them. Some days the scent was very light just a soft, clean feminine smell. On days she had long office hours or came back from the gym, the scent was stronger, more concentrated, more intimate. I could clearly smell her pussy on the fabric. That slightly sour, musky, lived-in smell.

The most intense times were when she was ovulating. I don’t know how I could tell, but the smell would be thicker, richer, almost creamy. Those panties would have more discharge white or pale yellow marks on the crotch. I would stand in the bathroom, heart pounding, scared she might suddenly come home, and sniff them slowly, deeply. Sometimes I would lick the fabric gently, tasting the faint salty tang.

I never stole them or kept them for long. I always put them back after a few minutes. The guilt after I cum is always heavy. I’ve promised myself dozens of times that I’ll stop, but I haven’t been able to.

What makes it worse is that Anjali and I have become quite close. We watch movies together, cook sometimes, and talk about our lives. She sees me as a decent, trustworthy guy. If she ever found out that I secretly smell her dirty panties and jerk off to her scent, she would probably never speak to me again.

I don’t even have a big panty fetish. It’s specifically her. There’s something about knowing that this piece of cloth was pressed against her pussy all day touching her most private area while she attended meetings, traveled in cabs, and lived her normal life that turns me on like nothing else.

It feels deeply violating and intimate at the same time.

I know this is not normal. I know it’s a betrayal of her trust. But I still do it.

And every time I catch that warm, musky, personal scent of hers… I lose control for those few minutes.

That’s my confession.

 

I’ve carried this secret for almost a year now, and it still makes me feel like a creep sometimes. I’m not proud of it. In fact, most days I feel disgusted with myself, but I still do it.

Her name is Anjali. She’s 25, my colleague and now roommate. We both work at the same IT company in Hyderabad. When her previous flatmate moved out last year, she asked if I could share the 2BHK with her since rent was getting expensive. I agreed. We’ve always had a friendly, slightly flirty vibe, but nothing ever happened.

It started very innocently.

One evening she came back from the gym, took a shower, and left her used clothes in the common laundry basket in the bathroom. I went in to pee and saw her light pink panty sitting on top. It wasn’t something I planned. I just… picked it up.

The first thing I noticed was the warmth. It was still slightly warm from her body.

I hesitantly brought it closer to my nose.

The smell was subtle but intimate. A soft, warm, feminine scent a mix of her natural body odor, a little sweat from the gym, and that distinct mild musky smell of her pussy. It wasn’t overpowering or “filthy” like in porn. It was just… very human. Slightly tangy, a little salty, with a faint sweet note underneath. The crotch area had a small, pale yellowish stain and was slightly damp in the middle.

I felt my heart racing and my face getting hot. I knew it was wrong, but I pressed the fabric against my nose and took a slow, deep breath. That scent did something to me. My cock got hard almost instantly.

I only sniffed it for maybe 20–30 seconds that first time. Then I felt guilty, put it back exactly how I found it, and went to my room. I jerked off thinking about her, feeling ashamed the entire time.

But it didn’t stop there.

Over the next few months, it became a quiet habit. Whenever she left her used panties in the basket (which was often, since we share the laundry), I would check them. Some days the scent was very light just a soft, clean feminine smell. On days she had long office hours or came back from the gym, the scent was stronger, more concentrated, more intimate. I could clearly smell her pussy on the fabric. That slightly sour, musky, lived-in smell.

The most intense times were when she was ovulating. I don’t know how I could tell, but the smell would be thicker, richer, almost creamy. Those panties would have more discharge white or pale yellow marks on the crotch. I would stand in the bathroom, heart pounding, scared she might suddenly come home, and sniff them slowly, deeply. Sometimes I would lick the fabric gently, tasting the faint salty tang.

I never stole them or kept them for long. I always put them back after a few minutes. The guilt after I cum is always heavy. I’ve promised myself dozens of times that I’ll stop, but I haven’t been able to.

What makes it worse is that Anjali and I have become quite close. We watch movies together, cook sometimes, and talk about our lives. She sees me as a decent, trustworthy guy. If she ever found out that I secretly smell her dirty panties and jerk off to her scent, she would probably never speak to me again.

I don’t even have a big panty fetish. It’s specifically her. There’s something about knowing that this piece of cloth was pressed against her pussy all day touching her most private area while she attended meetings, traveled in cabs, and lived her normal life that turns me on like nothing else.

It feels deeply violating and intimate at the same time.

I know this is not normal. I know it’s a betrayal of her trust. But I still do it.

And every time I catch that warm, musky, personal scent of hers… I lose control for those few minutes.

That’s my confession.

 

I’ve carried this secret for almost a year now, and it still makes me feel like a creep sometimes. I’m not proud of it. In fact, most days I feel disgusted with myself, but I still do it.

Her name is Anjali. She’s 25, my colleague and now roommate. We both work at the same IT company in Hyderabad. When her previous flatmate moved out last year, she asked if I could share the 2BHK with her since rent was getting expensive. I agreed. We’ve always had a friendly, slightly flirty vibe, but nothing ever happened.

It started very innocently.

One evening she came back from the gym, took a shower, and left her used clothes in the common laundry basket in the bathroom. I went in to pee and saw her light pink panty sitting on top. It wasn’t something I planned. I just… picked it up.

The first thing I noticed was the warmth. It was still slightly warm from her body.

I hesitantly brought it closer to my nose.

The smell was subtle but intimate. A soft, warm, feminine scent a mix of her natural body odor, a little sweat from the gym, and that distinct mild musky smell of her pussy. It wasn’t overpowering or “filthy” like in porn. It was just… very human. Slightly tangy, a little salty, with a faint sweet note underneath. The crotch area had a small, pale yellowish stain and was slightly damp in the middle.

I felt my heart racing and my face getting hot. I knew it was wrong, but I pressed the fabric against my nose and took a slow, deep breath. That scent did something to me. My cock got hard almost instantly.

I only sniffed it for maybe 20–30 seconds that first time. Then I felt guilty, put it back exactly how I found it, and went to my room. I jerked off thinking about her, feeling ashamed the entire time.

But it didn’t stop there.

Over the next few months, it became a quiet habit. Whenever she left her used panties in the basket (which was often, since we share the laundry), I would check them. Some days the scent was very light just a soft, clean feminine smell. On days she had long office hours or came back from the gym, the scent was stronger, more concentrated, more intimate. I could clearly smell her pussy on the fabric. That slightly sour, musky, lived-in smell.

The most intense times were when she was ovulating. I don’t know how I could tell, but the smell would be thicker, richer, almost creamy. Those panties would have more discharge white or pale yellow marks on the crotch. I would stand in the bathroom, heart pounding, scared she might suddenly come home, and sniff them slowly, deeply. Sometimes I would lick the fabric gently, tasting the faint salty tang.

I never stole them or kept them for long. I always put them back after a few minutes. The guilt after I cum is always heavy. I’ve promised myself dozens of times that I’ll stop, but I haven’t been able to.

What makes it worse is that Anjali and I have become quite close. We watch movies together, cook sometimes, and talk about our lives. She sees me as a decent, trustworthy guy. If she ever found out that I secretly smell her dirty panties and jerk off to her scent, she would probably never speak to me again.

I don’t even have a big panty fetish. It’s specifically her. There’s something about knowing that this piece of cloth was pressed against her pussy all day touching her most private area while she attended meetings, traveled in cabs, and lived her normal life that turns me on like nothing else.

It feels deeply violating and intimate at the same time.

I know this is not normal. I know it’s a betrayal of her trust. But I still do it.

And every time I catch that warm, musky, personal scent of hers… I lose control for those few minutes.

That’s my confession.

 

I never planned for any of this to happen. In fact, if you had told me even a month ago that I would end up in bed with Priya from the accounts department, I would have thought you were joking.

Priya is 37, divorced for three years now. She’s the kind of woman most people in the office don’t really notice. She’s short, slightly overweight, with a round face, soft double chin, and thick arms. Her skin carries old acne scars on her cheeks, and she usually keeps her hair tied in a simple bun. She wears loose, practical cotton salwar kameez in dull colors that hide her body completely. She speaks softly, rarely makes eye contact for long, and always seems a little tired. She’s polite, efficient at her work, and keeps mostly to herself.

But over the last few weeks, something shifted between us.

It started with small things sharing lunch when the canteen was crowded, complaining about the new HR policies, and eventually longer conversations in the evening after everyone else had left. She began opening up to me slowly. Her marriage had been emotionally dead for years. Her ex-husband had stopped touching her long before the divorce. She told me she hadn’t had sex in more than four years. Not once. She said she had started feeling invisible, unattractive, and slowly lifeless.

One rainy Friday evening, her cab cancelled and I offered to drop her home. When we reached her apartment, she hesitated for a moment, then quietly asked, “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

I said yes.

Inside, the house was neat but felt lonely. We sat on the couch with our tea, talking in low voices. The rain was pouring outside. After a long silence, she looked down at her hands and said, almost in a whisper:

“I know I’m not beautiful. I know how I look. But… I’m so tired of feeling like a ghost in my own body. I just want to feel wanted again. Even if it’s only for one night.”

The vulnerability in her voice hit me hard. I didn’t say anything. I just leaned in slowly and kissed her.

She froze for a second, then kissed me back hesitant, nervous, almost scared. Her lips were soft and warm. We kissed for a long time on the couch, slowly getting comfortable with each other. When my hand finally moved to her waist, she trembled.

We moved to her bedroom after almost forty minutes of kissing and gentle touching. The room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp.

I undressed her slowly, piece by piece.

When her kurti came off, her body was revealed soft, full, and heavy. Her breasts were large and pendulous, resting against her round stomach. They had a natural sag that came with age and weight. Her nipples were surprisingly dark, almost chocolate brown, thick and prominent, already stiff from arousal. Her belly was soft with visible stretch marks running across it like silver lines. Her thighs were thick and heavy, pressing together naturally.

She kept trying to cover herself with her hands, clearly ashamed. I gently pulled them away and told her she looked beautiful. I don’t know if she believed me, but she stopped hiding.

I laid her down on the bed and kissed her neck, then moved lower. When I reached her breasts, I took one heavy breast in my hand and sucked her thick, dark nipple into my mouth. She gasped loudly and arched her back. I spent a long time on her breasts, licking and gently biting her nipples until they were shiny and swollen.

When I finally moved further down, I could smell her.

Her pussy had a strong, rich, musky scent very feminine, slightly tangy, and intoxicating after years of being ignored. It wasn’t perfumed or artificial. It was raw and real. When I spread her thick thighs, I saw her pussy for the first time. Her outer lips were dark and puffy, slightly swollen with arousal. Her inner lips peeked out, glistening with wetness.

I licked her slowly, savoring her taste. She was incredibly wet. The moment my tongue touched her clit, her hands flew to my hair and she let out a deep, throaty moan. Her pussy was tight much tighter than I expected. When I slid one finger inside her, her walls clenched around it greedily.

I took my time eating her out, licking long slow strokes, sucking her clit gently, then harder. She came for the first time after fifteen minutes suddenly and intensely. Her thick thighs shook around my head as she cried out, her pussy pulsing against my tongue.

After she recovered, she looked at me with glassy eyes and whispered, “I want you inside me.”

I positioned myself between her legs. Her pussy was dripping. I rubbed the head of my cock up and down her slit, coating myself in her wetness, then pushed in slowly.

She was extremely tight.

Her pussy gripped me like a hot, velvet fist. She moaned loudly as I sank deeper, inch by inch, until I was completely buried inside her. Her walls fluttered and squeezed around me constantly. I started moving slowly long, deep strokes. Every time I pulled back, her pussy seemed to suck me back in.

Priya turned out to be surprisingly vocal and greedy in bed. She wrapped her thick legs around my waist and pulled me deeper, whispering “harder… please fuck me harder.” Her heavy breasts bounced with every thrust. Her soft belly jiggled. The sound of my hips slapping against her wet pussy filled the room.

I fucked her in missionary for a long time, watching her dark nipples bounce, watching her face twist in pleasure. Then she asked me to take her from behind.

When I entered her doggy style, the view was incredibly hot her wide, heavy ass rippling every time I thrust into her. She pushed back against me eagerly, moaning without shame now. I reached around and rubbed her clit while fucking her deep. She came again harder this time her entire body shaking as her pussy spasmed around my cock.

I finally couldn’t hold back anymore. I pulled out and came across her soft, round ass and lower back in thick ropes.

Afterwards, we lay together in silence. She had tears in her eyes, not from regret, but from pure relief. She kept stroking my chest and whispering “thank you” again and again.

That was the first night.

Since then, we’ve been meeting whenever her son is with her parents. In the office she’s still the same quiet, average-looking Priya.

But behind closed doors, this divorced, not-so-good-looking woman becomes one of the most passionate and sexually hungry lovers I’ve ever been with.

And every single time, her pussy still feels just as tight, just as wet, and just as desperate as the first night.

I never planned for any of this to happen. In fact, if you had told me even a month ago that I would end up in bed with Priya from the accounts department, I would have thought you were joking.

Priya is 37, divorced for three years now. She’s the kind of woman most people in the office don’t really notice. She’s short, slightly overweight, with a round face, soft double chin, and thick arms. Her skin carries old acne scars on her cheeks, and she usually keeps her hair tied in a simple bun. She wears loose, practical cotton salwar kameez in dull colors that hide her body completely. She speaks softly, rarely makes eye contact for long, and always seems a little tired. She’s polite, efficient at her work, and keeps mostly to herself.

But over the last few weeks, something shifted between us.

It started with small things sharing lunch when the canteen was crowded, complaining about the new HR policies, and eventually longer conversations in the evening after everyone else had left. She began opening up to me slowly. Her marriage had been emotionally dead for years. Her ex-husband had stopped touching her long before the divorce. She told me she hadn’t had sex in more than four years. Not once. She said she had started feeling invisible, unattractive, and slowly lifeless.

One rainy Friday evening, her cab cancelled and I offered to drop her home. When we reached her apartment, she hesitated for a moment, then quietly asked, “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

I said yes.

Inside, the house was neat but felt lonely. We sat on the couch with our tea, talking in low voices. The rain was pouring outside. After a long silence, she looked down at her hands and said, almost in a whisper:

“I know I’m not beautiful. I know how I look. But… I’m so tired of feeling like a ghost in my own body. I just want to feel wanted again. Even if it’s only for one night.”

The vulnerability in her voice hit me hard. I didn’t say anything. I just leaned in slowly and kissed her.

She froze for a second, then kissed me back hesitant, nervous, almost scared. Her lips were soft and warm. We kissed for a long time on the couch, slowly getting comfortable with each other. When my hand finally moved to her waist, she trembled.

We moved to her bedroom after almost forty minutes of kissing and gentle touching. The room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp.

I undressed her slowly, piece by piece.

When her kurti came off, her body was revealed soft, full, and heavy. Her breasts were large and pendulous, resting against her round stomach. They had a natural sag that came with age and weight. Her nipples were surprisingly dark, almost chocolate brown, thick and prominent, already stiff from arousal. Her belly was soft with visible stretch marks running across it like silver lines. Her thighs were thick and heavy, pressing together naturally.

She kept trying to cover herself with her hands, clearly ashamed. I gently pulled them away and told her she looked beautiful. I don’t know if she believed me, but she stopped hiding.

I laid her down on the bed and kissed her neck, then moved lower. When I reached her breasts, I took one heavy breast in my hand and sucked her thick, dark nipple into my mouth. She gasped loudly and arched her back. I spent a long time on her breasts, licking and gently biting her nipples until they were shiny and swollen.

When I finally moved further down, I could smell her.

Her pussy had a strong, rich, musky scent very feminine, slightly tangy, and intoxicating after years of being ignored. It wasn’t perfumed or artificial. It was raw and real. When I spread her thick thighs, I saw her pussy for the first time. Her outer lips were dark and puffy, slightly swollen with arousal. Her inner lips peeked out, glistening with wetness.

I licked her slowly, savoring her taste. She was incredibly wet. The moment my tongue touched her clit, her hands flew to my hair and she let out a deep, throaty moan. Her pussy was tight much tighter than I expected. When I slid one finger inside her, her walls clenched around it greedily.

I took my time eating her out, licking long slow strokes, sucking her clit gently, then harder. She came for the first time after fifteen minutes suddenly and intensely. Her thick thighs shook around my head as she cried out, her pussy pulsing against my tongue.

After she recovered, she looked at me with glassy eyes and whispered, “I want you inside me.”

I positioned myself between her legs. Her pussy was dripping. I rubbed the head of my cock up and down her slit, coating myself in her wetness, then pushed in slowly.

She was extremely tight.

Her pussy gripped me like a hot, velvet fist. She moaned loudly as I sank deeper, inch by inch, until I was completely buried inside her. Her walls fluttered and squeezed around me constantly. I started moving slowly long, deep strokes. Every time I pulled back, her pussy seemed to suck me back in.

Priya turned out to be surprisingly vocal and greedy in bed. She wrapped her thick legs around my waist and pulled me deeper, whispering “harder… please fuck me harder.” Her heavy breasts bounced with every thrust. Her soft belly jiggled. The sound of my hips slapping against her wet pussy filled the room.

I fucked her in missionary for a long time, watching her dark nipples bounce, watching her face twist in pleasure. Then she asked me to take her from behind.

When I entered her doggy style, the view was incredibly hot her wide, heavy ass rippling every time I thrust into her. She pushed back against me eagerly, moaning without shame now. I reached around and rubbed her clit while fucking her deep. She came again harder this time her entire body shaking as her pussy spasmed around my cock.

I finally couldn’t hold back anymore. I pulled out and came across her soft, round ass and lower back in thick ropes.

Afterwards, we lay together in silence. She had tears in her eyes, not from regret, but from pure relief. She kept stroking my chest and whispering “thank you” again and again.

That was the first night.

Since then, we’ve been meeting whenever her son is with her parents. In the office she’s still the same quiet, average-looking Priya.

But behind closed doors, this divorced, not-so-good-looking woman becomes one of the most passionate and sexually hungry lovers I’ve ever been with.

And every single time, her pussy still feels just as tight, just as wet, and just as desperate as the first night.