Mistaken Prostitute. 3

Andy was looking at Bela moping the floor her cleavage of big boobs right there.

Just then Khushi came there, and Andy looked away from her.

Khu- Andy my brother is getting married so I was thinking I will go 10 days early then after ten days you can with the kids.

Andy- Okay when will you go.

Khu- In two days.

Andy- No no you should leave right now.

Khu- Are you sure.

Andy- Yes yes, Veer drop your mother off at the airport.

After that Veer and Khushi left, now only Bela and Andy was at home, Bela was not cooking food when Andy came and hugged her from behind.

Bel- Andy sir what are you doing let me go.

Him- Okay go then I will post your video on the internet, with this photo which is showing your boobs.

Saying that he show her the photo, she understood now she can't do anything all she can do is allow him to fuck her.

https://pin.it/3es9YiyrZ

Saying that he pushed her on the kitchen's table, Andy was utterly captivated by Bela's body, a form that seemed to embody everything he had ever found attractive.

Her skin was a flawless shade of white, soft and inviting, almost like porcelain. It glowed under the soft light of the room, and he couldn't help but admire how it contrasted with the darker hues of the surrounding decor.

Her body was a work of art in his eyes, and he relished every moment spent exploring its contours.

He found himself particularly drawn to her curves. The way her breasts filled out her top, creating a perfect silhouette, made his heart race.

It was a sight that he could easily lose himself in, fantasizing about the many ways he could show her just how much he adored her.

The flatness of her stomach only added to the allure, it was a sign of both her fitness and femininity, and he admired how it showcased her hips, which gently flared out.

Feeling a rush of desire, Andy leaned in closer, letting his lips graze her neck. The warmth of her skin sent shivers down his spine, igniting a fire within him.

He started to kiss her gently, trailing soft pecks along her neck, allowing his passion to manifest in the form of delicate red hickeys that marked his affection upon her body.

Each kiss was a testament to his growing obsession, a physical representation of the feelings swirling within him.

He could feel her pulse quicken beneath his lips, a rhythm that synchronized with his own heartbeat.

It was intoxicating, the way her body responded to his touch, urging him to continue exploring this newfound territory.

He reveled in the way she sighed softly, a sound that made him want to push further, to express the depths of his desire.

As he continued to kiss her neck, he felt an overwhelming desire to lose himself in her entirely, to convey the intensity of his feelings through every caress, every kiss, and every lingering touch.

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As she felt him enter her, a wave of emotions surged through her, and tears began to spill down her cheeks.

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and she was unsure whether those tears were born from joy, vulnerability, or a mixture of both.

It was a profound experience that stirred something deep within her. Despite her initial hesitation, she surrendered to the moment, allowing him to take the lead, to guide her through this intimate experience.

As time passed, she found herself melting into the sensations, the boundaries of her mind and body beginning to blur.

The kitchen became their sanctuary, a place where they could explore each other without the constraints of the outside world.

The aroma of spices and simmering dishes filled the air, but all she could focus on was the way he moved, the way he touched her, igniting a fire that spread through her entire being.

Hours seemed to slip away unnoticed as they lost themselves in this shared space. The playful banter they often exchanged turned into whispers of desire, creating an electric atmosphere that made the mundane feel extraordinary.

She could hear the rhythm of their breaths mingling with the soft sounds of the kitchen, each sound amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

In that setting, she realized that the kitchen was not just a place for cooking, it had transformed into a backdrop for their connection, a space where passion intertwined with everyday life.

The clatter of pots and pans became a symphony to their unfolding story, each note echoing the depth of their shared experience.

She reveled in the delight of being used, not in a way that made her feel diminished, but rather as a celebration of trust and mutual exploration.

This was a dance they were performing together, one that was both exhilarating and liberating.

Embracing the joy of the moment, she found herself lost in a whirlwind of sensations, fully aware that this experience would linger in her memory long after they left the kitchen.