I’m Ankita, 23, Bengali girl who moved to Mumbai 3 months ago for my first job. I work as a junior marketing executive in the same office as you, a hot senior colleague. We’ve had friendly coffee chats, team lunches, and the occasional “hi” in the pantry… but nothing more. Until tonight.
It’s a company-sponsored open-air rock concert. The bass is shaking the humid Mumbai night, lights flashing, crowd going crazy. Our whole team came together, but we’ve both lost our friends in the sweaty, surging mass of bodies.
A huge wave pushes me straight backward into you,. My soft, round, curvy ass presses firmly against your crotch through my tight black crop top (already riding up, sweat glistening on my midriff) and tiny frayed denim shorts. I freeze for a second… then I feel you getting rock hard. Instead of pulling away, I slowly start rolling my hips — grinding back against you in time with the heavy bass, my plump cheeks clenching around your thick bulge.