Jayant’s vigorous and demanding fucking only whetted Falu’s lust. That evening, as she watched a new pornographic movie on the state-of-the-art laser disc home entertainment system, memories of the afternoon aroused her. The television screen was gigantic, and the unit was rigged to an array of eighteen speakers. The picture quality was pin-sharp, the sound of the highest fidelity; not one expression was lost, not one intake of breath went unheard.

The film was the latest Hedon & Venery production and, as usual, was of exceptionally high quality with sizzling, steamy sex. The camera work was superb, unobtrusive yet completely invasive, probing and delving, revealing every conceivable detail to view. The female lead was played by a newcomer, anxious to make it to the silver screen and willing to use the casting couch route to get there. Her name was Manisha, and she had a gorgeous face and a stunning body. There were several other regulars from Hedon & Venery’s stables in supporting roles. Falu herself featured in at least three sequences.

In the film, Falu played Manisha’s sister. Another sex goddess from Hedon & Venery, Anjali, was Falu’s closest friend. Manisha’s husband was played by Mohan, a handsome, muscular youth who was one of Hedon & Venery’s studs.

Falu, dressed in white saris with a long mangalsutra, was the image of a sedate young widow in lifelong mourning. Her makeup was carefully understated, only her eyes lightly rimmed with kajal and a small bindi dotting the middle of her forehead. She looked devastating in the film, especially because her white blouses were of some fine, translucent material that showed the swell and contours of her breasts. The necks were cut in low, wide plunging scoops that revealed most of her deep, inviting cleavage. She was evidently without underwear, and the stiff stubs of her nipples and the dark shadows of her aureoles were clearly visible through the fine material of the blouses. They were tight and short, the lower hem cut high, running hard under her breasts so that they jutted out like succulent fruit, straining at the taut material and leaving a wide expanse of her fair midriff naked. Her long mangalsutra dangled low, curved over her breasts, its twin-cupped amulet resting on her bare belly. The saris were slung low above her buttocks and in front, well under the navel, high on the hips. If Falu was a widow, she was without doubt the most outrageously sexy one in town.

Anjali was a dusky, voluptuous, heavy-featured woman with large breasts and flared hips, full, sensual lips over pearly teeth, and large, laughing, kajal-rimmed eyes. In real life, Anjali was a lawyer, Jayant’s colleague; by inclination, she was a whore; in real life, she was a sexually insatiable young woman.

The sequence Falu was watching now was especially steamy. Manisha was shown standing at the door of a room, her eyes red with tears, her hand to her mouth, watching Falu and Anjali in the bedroom, Manisha’s bedroom.

By the high, handsome teakwood four-poster bed, Mohan and Falu were kissing hungrily. She writhed against him, sucking his tongue eagerly, feverishly undoing his shirt, kissing his chest, licking his small, hard nipples. He pulled off the pallu of her sari and slowly plucked open the buttons of her blouse. She had nothing on under it. He pulled it wide and dragged his hands heavily over her heavy, swollen breasts. Falu moaned, arching her pretty face, shuddering in pleasure, her eyes fluttering. Whimpering, she slipped to her knees before Manisha’s husband. Groaning loudly, she undid his trousers. They slipped to his feet and his long, thick penis, still limp, hovered before her face. Falu moaned and kissed it, caressing the long, thick shaft, slowly pumping it. Her eyes half-shut, her face tilted slightly to one side, Falu rolled back his foreskin and, opening her mouth, ran her tongue sensuously over the bulging cock-head. Mohan sucked in his breath and, opening his shirt, knotted its ends above his belly. He fondled her face. His cock swelled rapidly, ballooning, hardening, thickening, lengthening. Falu groaned and took his cock-head in her mouth and began sucking him languorously, her head sliding back and forth between his legs. Mohan groaned as he fucked her face, pumping his hips back and forth, rocking his head in her hands.

The camera cut to a shot of Manisha’s ashen face. Her eyes were wide, mesmerised, and tears brimmed, glistening on her lovely lashes. Her lips trembled and shook.

Back in the bedroom, on the bed, Mohan was fucking Falu, the widow. Bent on her hands and knees before him, she moaned and gasped in pleasure. Her body swung back and forth, her succulent breasts swinging, her long mangalsutra slithering along the rich linen. Her hair was in a tidy bun, caught in a net; her lovely face was upturned, suffused with lust, the eyes hooded, the nostrils flared, her lips parted in a wide ‘O’. Mohan, a wide-shouldered, hard-bodied, handsome devil with a muscular physique and hairless torso and an enormous nine-inch penis, knelt behind her. Holding her waist, he moved her body back and forth and pumped his hips rhythmically at her buttocks. His thighs slapped audibly against her buttocks, and his swollen penis glistened and shone as it squelched wetly in and out of her cunt. He grinned down at her, sliding his hands up her body to cup her pendulous breasts. Falu whimpered and moaned, writhing erotically against him.

“Mm ... yes ... ohh yes ... yes ... fuck me! Fuck me hard, lover,” she moaned.

“Take it ... take it, whore! Take my prick!” Mohan grunted.

The camera moved up and down their bodies, lingering in close-ups of his penis sawing steadily in and out of her cunt, appearing and disappearing between the curves of her buttocks; then trolleying up slowly to her breasts in his hands, upward to her face. It cut to a shot of Manisha’s beautiful face, the red-eyed, swollen-lipped pain slowly giving way to a look of cold anger. Her lovely eyes swivelled, and the camera snapped to another corner of the room.

There, Anjali was fucking one of the house servants. He lay on his back, and she knelt over his lap, her cunt impaled on his cock, rocking up and down, gasping and moaning feverishly. Her gold necklace slapped on her dusky skin. Her large breasts, swollen with excitement, the long nipples stiff, bounced with her movements. The servant, a dark, handsome youth with a muscular physique and a big penis, grinned up at her and squeezed her breasts. She moaned, leaning back to caress his balls, hissing in pleasure as he fingered her clitoris. She looked down at him, smiling radiantly, swirling her hips in tight, round, erotic circles.

“Fuck yes ... oh fuck yes! Ohhhhhhh yes!” Anjali gasped. “Oh, that’s so good!”

She moved faster and faster, grinding her hips round and round on his lap, churning her cunt with his cock. Her face contorted with excitement, and she squeezed her breasts in a frenzy. The young servant grunted and bucked his hips up and down under her. The camera swirled behind and moved to a close-up of Anjali’s buttocks flexing and unflexing, her cunt sliding up and down the length of his monstrous penis, the cock emerging and disappearing from her cunt. She moved faster and faster, and her anus winked as her buttocks opened and closed. The man gripped her buttocks and began jerking her up and down on his cock. His balls bucked against her buttocks, and she leaned back to squeeze them in excitement. Her buttocks bounced off his thighs.

The camera cut to a close-up of Manisha’s face, her eyes hard and cold, a determined smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a loose white button-down shirt of some fine material that clung to her splendid curves, and a long skirt. She cupped her breasts slowly, her hands meeting in her cleavage, little fingers together. The camera backed away a little and showed her in the corridor looking in. Across the door, on the other side of the passage, another servant appeared, moving away. He paused, looked up. Manisha caught his eye and a delightful, gamin smile lit her face. She beckoned to him, her finger on her lips signalling silence and motioned to him to look inside. The servant, a dark, sturdy young man with fine features, clad in shorts and a vest, peeked in. A grin split his handsome face, showing very white, very even teeth. The camera moved between them and entered the room again.

On the couch, Falu sighed to herself, feeling very horny. She remembered the wonderful fucking during filming - not one orgasm was faked - and, more recently, of that afternoon. She needed a man. She jabbed a button on a red intercom telephone. It was answered promptly.

“Yes, this is three-oh-five. I want to speak to driver Lewis, please.” A minute later, “Lewis? This is Falu. Would you come up, please? I want to fuck. No, just you. Your friend can come up later.”

She cradled the receiver and, smiling to herself, looked at the screen again. Manisha and the servant were still watching the others, but now he was beside her, behind her, close to her, caressing her. She turned her face up and he kissed her, his hand on her breast, her hand in his crotch.

“Fuck me,” she whispered. “I want your cock in my slit.”

The servant grinned. “What about them?”

“Look at them. Who cares?” Manisha said. “Forget them.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Her room,” Manisha pointed to Falu.

The camera snapped to a shot inside the room. Now Falu and Anjali had swapped partners. Falu was on her back on the bed with the servant, while Anjali and Mohan were at it on the floor. Falu gasped and cried out, her back arching, her hips writhing and heaving, her body jerking and rocking. The handsome servant, Deepak, bent over on his outstretched arms, his body weight on his toes, his buttocks flexing and unflexing, his hips rocking up and down, his penis plunging and pistoning in and out of her cunt. She clung to his shoulders, gasping in pleasure, her head rolling from side to side, her long mangalsutra slithering on her fair skin. Her legs opened wider and her feet climbed up the backs of his thighs. She clenched his buttocks, dragging him deeper into her flesh.

“C’mon c’mon c’mon fuck me fuck me fuck me,” she moaned in an obscene litany. “Oh yes yes ohhh god yes yes fuck me lover fuck me fuck my slit!”

The camera lingered on their bucking bodies, both glistening with sweat. Deepak bent his head and kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and she moaned loudly, clenching his head, her arm around his shoulders, the other hand sliding down to his buttocks, a finger pressing to his anus. The servant groaned and, sucking her swollen breasts, ground his hips in circles, spiralling deeply into her. Falu gasped in pleasure, arching her back.

On the floor, Anjali was on all fours, gasping and panting, her body rocking back and forth as Mohan, kneeling behind her and fucked her cunt with deep, skewering thrusts. She moaned delirious obscenities, and his cock ground in and out of her flesh. Her breasts were swollen and turgid and they swung heavily with their motions. She whimpered thickly, her head rising. The young man grunted softly and, holding her hips, jerked her cunt back and forth on his cock rapidly, making her gasp and cry out.

“Oh yes oh yes oh yes Ohhh yes!” she cried.

“C’mon take it, take it bitch, take it!” he responded.

The bell rang. Falu got up to answer it, letting the movie run on. Lewis was at the door. He smiled at her and then grinned over her shoulder at the screen.

“New flick?”

“Latest.”

“Great. I’d like to watch.”

“You do that.”

“Yeh. And you get busy.”

“Doing what I like best.”

Lewis grinned at her and, gripping her head in one hand, jammed his mouth to hers. Falu moaned and squirmed against him. He squeezed her breasts and her buttocks. She writhed erotically against his crotch.

“Real hot, aren’t you, whore?” he growled.

“God yes,” she whimpered. “Oh god yes!”

She was wearing a transparent synthetic gown tied loosely at the waist, and he pulled it open now and cupped her breasts. Falu moaned softly and undid the buttons of his tunic. Bending her head, she kissed and licked his chest, deep and muscled and hairless, slowly slithering lower to her knees before her chauffeur. He grinned down at her.

Whimpering in excitement, she opened his trousers and drew out his penis. It was eight inches long, still limp, and correspondingly thick, with heavy, low balls. Moaning softly, Falu jerked it in her fist and then took it in her mouth and started sucking his cock greedily and rapidly. Lewis groaned thickly, and his cock ballooned swiftly in her mouth. It felt wonderful to have her teeth and tongue on his cock, her soft lips encasing his penis, her mouth sucking insistently. Holding her head with one hand and rocking it back and forth, he fucked her face slowly, pumping his hips at her head. He looked up at the television set.

On the screen, the movie ran on. Now all four were on the bed. Anjali was on her knees, kissing Deepak, who fondled her breasts and cunts with his hands while he fucked Falu on her back. Falu’s face was turned to one side and she was sucking Mohan’s cock. Her body twisted and writhed and bucked and jerked feverishly on the bed. The room filled with their grunts and gasps and groans. Falu slid a hand down her belly and splayed her cunt-lips wide to receive Deepak’s penis. Her hips bucked and heaved rhythmically as the huge penis sawed in and out of her flesh. With her other hand, she jerked Mohan’s penis, sucking it greedily, her face distended by its size. The man grunted and caressed her breasts, twining his fingers in her mangalsutra and rubbing the thick beads over her rigid nipples, making her moan. Deepak crushed Anjali’s breast and then, grinning, jammed his hand in her crotch. She gasped, arching her head and he started masturbating her rapidly, thrusting three fingers in and out of her cunt.

The camera craned upward to the ceiling and took a shot of the corridor on the other side of the dividing wall of Manisha and the other servant, Hari. The camera craned down into the corridor.

Manisha’s blouse was unbuttoned and she was on her knees sucking Hari’s penis. His shorts pulled down to his ankles, his vest tucked up his belly. He fucked her face happily and slowly, gasping and grunting, rocking her head back and forth with both hands, pumping his hips at her mouth. Manisha’s pretty face was distended with lust and the size of his penis. She gripped his shaft in one fist, pumping it steadily as her head moved back and forth and round and round between his thighs. He caressed her pretty face, squeezed her succulent breasts. She moaned, her eyes half-closed, sucking and licking lasciviously.

The camera lingered for a while in a close-up of her sucking his cock, showing the lust on her face, her tongue working the cock-head lasciviously, her lips glistening with pre-cum gunk, her excitement evident from her glassy eyes and flared nostrils. His penis was long, thick, and dark, smoothly shorn down to the base. The camera cut to his face, his head bent to watch her, his mouth hanging open, moaning soft obscenities.

“C’mon, whore, suck it! Yeh! Suck my prick, bitch!” he grunted.

Manisha was very pretty. She had a lovely oval face with a fine nose, high cheekbones, soft, limpid, elongated eyes lined with kajal, full, sensual lips, and white teeth. Her hair was thick and glossy with a fine sheen to it. Her long neck led to full, high, ripe breasts with a beautiful, inviting cleavage. Her nipples were long and stiff, prominent in small, bright aureoles. Her belly was firm and flat, and her waist was neatly nipped in; then her hips flared smoothly to firm buttocks and slender, shapely legs. Her wrists and ankles were sexily slim, and her hands and feet were superbly formed, delicate, and long. Falu had little doubt that she would become a major star. Her face was incredibly mobile, and she could move from heart-rending tragedy to sparkling laughter to steaming, raw sexuality with effortless ease in seconds. For instance, there was no doubt that she was genuinely aroused by the sex now and that she enjoyed sucking cock. Yet, the pain and horror in her eyes just minutes before when she watched Falu and Anjali was equally undeniable.

If she made it, no one would be more pleased than Jayant. With Manisha, he would achieve a clean sweep, a grand slam, a hat-trick; for then, the top three movie stars of the country would all owe their success to him. Before Manisha, Juhi and, before her, Madhuri, had both emerged from Hedon & Venery stock; and they, too, had performed, sucked and licked and fucked their way to the very top. Their gratitude to Jayant was profound - both Juhi and Madhuri returned to the Apistia with unfailing regularity and gave thanks in the one way it would be most appreciated - they performed free, on stage and in select films, servicing choice clients. Manisha would soon join them.

For now, though, she was just another porn queen. The camera lingered a while longer on her sucking the servant’s penis and then circled around and went through into the bedroom again. The bed was covered with writhing flesh and tangled limbs and the camera moved slowly inward, closing in on its prey.

“Hey, this is great stuff,” Lewis said to Falu.

“Mm,” she murmured, still sucking his cock. “Cum in my mouth if you like.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Just keep sucking, babe,” he murmured dreamily. “Yeh ... nice and slow ... yeh, that’s it ... just so I can keep watching the flick.”

Lewis pulled off his tunic and flung it across the room. He pushed her head away and, without looking back, walked quickly to a deep sofa in front of the television set and flung himself onto it.

“C’mere, whore,” he muttered. “C’mere and suck my prick.”

Falu followed obediently, dropping her gown. Getting on the sofa, she knelt beside him and bent her head over his lap, her swollen breasts hanging like succulent fruit. Lewis grunted as her lips slipped around his cock again. She started sucking his cock heavily and deeply, jerking it deftly in her fist. The chauffeur caressed her breasts and back and, watching the movie, slid a hand down her back to her buttocks. Falu whimpered and her legs spread open. Lewis slid a finger into her cunt and started masturbating her gently and unhurriedly. Falu sighed in pleasure. His cock was hot and hard, filled with tangy, heady, musky juice. She loved the taste of it, and felt she could suck it forever, would never tire of it. She ran her tongue around the swollen cock-head. Her lips and gums tingled with his pre-cum gunk.

In the movie, she was back with Mohan again. Now he lay on his back and she was in a deep squat over his lap, her feet on either side of his narrow hips, her knees deeply bent. Leaning back on one outstretched arm, hollows in her shoulders, her other hand fondling her clitoris greedily, she swung her hips in tight, erotic circles, mashing her cunt-flesh with his cock. The camera lingered in a close-up of her cunt swirling around the massive penis, then tracked sensuously up her hot, sweat-slippery body. She hissed in pleasure, her face creasing in joy, and crushed her breasts with one hand in a frenzy.

“Ohhh yes! Ohhh fuck yes!” Falu moaned. “Ohhhh baby yes!”

Leaning back on both hands, rising on her toes, she swung her hips rapidly back and forth. Then, taking her weight on one hand, pressing the other hand to her crotch and fondling her clitoris, she swirled and jerked her hips in a frenzy. Her long mangalsutra danced and slithered on her fair, sweat-flecked skin. Her breasts, hot and hard with excitement, bounced and jiggled sexily. Her face was radiant with lust. At last, Mohan moved and she moaned and gasped and began to move with him, their bodies rocking and bucking together.

Beside them, on the bed, Anjali moaned, her body jerking and rocking as Deepak plunged his cock into her cunt. She lay on her back, and he bent over her on outstretched arms, his buttocks flexing and unflexing powerfully, his hips swinging and snapping, his enormous penis plunging in and out of her cunt. She cried out in joy, her hips bucking and heaving under his thrusts, her fleshy breasts jiggling, her voluptuous face suffused with lust. She caressed his thick biceps and deep chest, hissing in joy as he rocked deep into her flesh.

“Yeh, c’mon lover, fuck me! Fuck me hard, Deepak, yes, do it! Ohhhh yes!”

Deepak levered her thighs further apart with his knees and began moving faster, plunging greedily and deeply into her slit, ramming and reaming his cock into her cunt. Anjali whimpered and cried out, squeezing her breasts in delight. His buttocks flexed and unflexed, and the camera lingered in a close-up of his thick, long cock plunging and pistoning with a squelch in and out of her dripping cunt. The screen filled with the shot of his cock and balls and her cunt-lips and his buttocks; then her fingers stole into the frame, gripping his buttocks, one finger slipping inward to his anus. His actions grew frenzied, and he started ram-fucking her violently. The soundtrack resonated with their loud cries.

“Fuck, what a film!” Lewis gasped.

Falu groaned and sucked him furiously, her head rocking rapidly up and down over his lap, jerking his shaft in her fist. The chauffeur moaned and gasped, his fingers darting in and out of her cunt. Her buttocks writhed and swayed in pleasure, and her body jerked and rocked on the sofa beside him. Lewis’ hips bucked, and he flung his head back and gasped softly. Falu sucked him harder and faster, and then he lost control. She sensed his orgasm and immediately jerked his cock rapidly, opening her mouth wide to receive his seed. Jizz shot from his cock-head and spurted into her mouth. She gasped, shaking his cock, and thick gobs of gunk spattered her face, neck, and pendulous breasts. Finally, his penis stopped fountaining. With a soft sigh, Falu pushed her head back into his crotch, kissed his cock, and slowly took its tip into her mouth again.

Lewis groaned. Falu sank down on the sofa, lying on her side, her head in his lap, his cock-head in her mouth. He grinned down at her, squeezing her swollen, heavy breasts. She raised a leg, and he fondled her cunt, opening her cunt-lips and arching a finger into her flesh. She grunted and writhed. He arched a finger into her cunt and held it there. She groaned, her leg twisting down, clamping over it. He pressed his thumb to her anus. Falu shuddered, her body writhing. She sucked and licked his balls, nuzzled his crotch.

“Keep going, whore,” he muttered. “Keep sucking my prick till it’s up again.”

He turned his attention back to the screen. The shot had cut back to the corridor outside the bedroom again, where Hari was now licking Manisha’s slit. Her blouse was opened out, and her skirt was flipped up over her waist. Her legs were spread, and the servant’s head was thrust into her crotch. The screen filled with a close-up of her cunt, the lips unfurled wide in her delicate fingers, soft, wet black hair curling over the rims; his strong face against her flesh, his mouth open, hard fingers stretching her cunt-lips apart, his thick, bright, pointed tongue jabbing and darting and flickering in and out of her sodden slit. It lingered lovingly for a minute in a tight close-up, then retreated slowly. Manisha’s face was radiant with lust: her lovely eyes were half-closed, and her face turned languorously from side to side.

Her hips heaved and juddered up and down, and her body rocked and snapped gently on the floor as though someone was fucking her slowly. Her hands slid up under her bouncing breasts; she lifted them, squeezed them, crushed them, rolled her palms over them. Hissing in pleasure, one hand went down, flat on her belly, fingers pulling her cunt-lips open, the other hand clenching his head and moving it round and round in her crotch. The servant nibbled on her gorged clitoris, and she gasped, chewing her lower lip, her back arching, her long neck craned, and her hand flew from his head to her breasts.

“Ohhh yes! Ohhh god yes! Yes! C’mon, lover, do it! Lick my slit! Ohh yes!” she gasped. “Oh ma oh ma oh ma oh ma oh ma oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-unh-OHHH!”

Her body rocked and jerked, her cunt heaving and writhing in unbridled pleasure on the floor beneath her servant. The camera drew back further and began to rise above them, bent down, showing her flat on her back, the broad V of the servant’s torso bent between her creamy thighs.

Again, the camera rose over the partition wall and glided over into the bedroom. It slithered around to a corner and slipped down, almost furtive in its movements now, prying, spying, probing, delving, unwilling to miss an instant.

Now the activity on the bed was frenetic. Falu was on her side between the two men, being fucked in her cunt and ass simultaneously. Her face contorted with lust and excitement. The two studs gripped her body and rocked their hips back and forth, gasping and grunting their excitement and pleasure and lust. Their huge penises sawed in and out of the adjacent orifices, separated now by the slightest of flesh so that each could feel the weight and thickness and throbbing hardness of the other through her body. Falu moaned deliriously, her body whipping, jerking, writhing, and thrashing between theirs. Fucking her cunt, lying in front of her, Mohan kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Behind her, his cock in her anus, his hands lifting one buttock and thigh high for deeper access, Deepak groaned. She turned her head back to his, breaking from Mohan and now Deepak kissed her, squeezing her breasts.

“Ohh god oh god yes Ohhh yes ohh fuck yes oh yes yes fuck me Ohhh yes Ohh unh oh oh oh oh oh oh ma unh oh unh oh OH OH OHHH!” Falu gasped.

Beside them, watching them, on her knees, her legs spread, Anjali moaned deliriously, masturbating frantically with one hand, the other crushing her breasts. Her eyes were glassy with lust and envy and she squeezed her heavy breasts in a frenzy.

The men were insatiable. After several minutes, they abandoned Falu, who had obviously orgasmed several times, and turned their attention to Anjali— who wanted nothing else. Panting, gasping, their magnificent bodies streaming with sweat, Mohan and Deepak started to fuck Anjali in her cunt and ass together, just as they had done with Falu, but reversing positions. Now Deepak lay on his back, and Anjali straddled his lap on her knees, quickly impaling her cunt on his prick with a loud, shuddering moan.

The camera swirled around to a shot of her splendid buttocks bracketing his massive erection, the huge penis drilling slowly upward into her molten flesh. Anjali leaned forward, and her buttocks spread apart, revealing the puckered temptation of her anus. Chortling in pleasure, Mohan knelt behind her and pressed his cock-head to her asshole. Anjali tensed, kneeling over Deepak’s body, her arms stretched, hands on the bed, fingers scrunching the sheets, her heavy breasts swollen, succulent, and pendulous. Deepak grinned up at her and Mohan behind her and squeezed her breasts. Mohan gripped her buttocks, pulled them open, and flexed his own, sliding his hips forward. A loud, ululating cry erupted from Anjali’s throat, and her face contorted savagely, the lips jerking back over her white teeth, her mouth tearing open, her head snapping up, and her neck arched. Deepak squeezed her breasts. Mohan gasped, and his buttocks squeezed taut, his hips pushed forward. The camera cut to a close-up of his dark, gargantuan cock-mass gliding inexorably into her flesh, burrowing deeper and deeper into her rear channel. Pinned between the two magnificent lovers, Anjali whimpered deliriously, her face contorted in spasms of unmistakable lust. Her breasts were heavy and turgid, her nipples nut-hard in dark puckered aureoles.

“OhmaunhhOHunhhOHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Anjali cried.

Slowly, Deepak arched his hips under her, squeezing her breasts, holding her waist. Gripping her buttocks, Mohan squeezed his penis deeper into her asshole. Anjali whimpered and cried out, her body twisting and arching, writhing between theirs. Her chest heaved in excitement and lust.

“C’mon, fuck me ... please ... fuck me ... fuck me hard!” she moaned.

Beside them on the bed, Falu whimpered in excitement. Lying on her back, her knees spread wide, she masturbated with a thick, long rubber dildo. Holding it in both hands, she ran it in and out of her cunt, gasping and moaning. Her breasts were hot and swollen, and they jiggled and bounced gently as she fucked herself. Her long mangalsutra slithered on her fair, sweat-flecked skin.

The two men were fucking Anjali heavily and deeply. She gasped and moaned and cried her pleasure, her body lurching and twisting and rocking back and forth, sandwiched between theirs. They moved in synchrony now, Mohan pushing his cock into her anus as Deepak thrust up into her cunt. The two distended penises sawed in and out of the adjacent orifices. Anjali’s face twisted and contorted, and her body shook and trembled between theirs. She moaned and gasped, her head arched back, then falling forward. Mohan squeezed her breasts and crushed them hard, making her moan.