The afternoon sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden hue across the school grounds as Kavya and Sneha led Abir away from the classroom, their steps purposeful and charged with anticipation. Kavya, in her tight blue kurta, her lithe frame swaying with confidence, and Sneha, her green saree clinging to her curvy hips, exchanged knowing glances as they guided him toward a secluded spot—the school's old art studio, abandoned since the new wing was built. The air inside was musty, filled with the scent of dried paint and canvas, the large windows letting in slanted light that danced across the dusty floor and scattered easels. Nisha, Priya, and Ananya followed, settling into the shadows to watch, their eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and lust as they anticipated the spectacle.
Abir's white shirt, partially unbuttoned, revealed a sweat-slicked chest, his sleeves rolled up to expose sinewy forearms, his body already humming with the promise of rough passion. Kavya stepped forward first, her hands tugging at her kurta, peeling it off to reveal a lacy purple bra that strained against her full breasts, her jeans sliding down to expose matching panties. Sneha followed, her saree unwrapped with deliberate slowness, revealing a red bra and panties that hugged her voluptuous curves. Abir shed his shirt and pants, his underwear discarded as his erect manhood stood ready, the audience's presence fueling his arousal.
He grabbed Kavya first, pulling her against him with rough hands, her scream—"Ahh!"—piercing the air as he entered her with a deep, brutal thrust, his rage-fueled force making her breasts bounce wildly beneath the bra. "Mmm, Abir, yes!" she moaned at first, her hips bucking to meet him, but as he pounded into her with savage intensity, her cries turned to pleas—"Ohh, stop, too much!"—her eyes rolling back as her first breaking point hit, her inner walls clenching around him, her juices coating his length. His hands squeezed her breasts with bruising force, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, her nipples hardening under his rough grip as he thrust deeper, her screams—"Ahhh, no more!"—echoing off the walls.
Abir lifted Kavya onto an easel, her legs spreading wide as he entered her with a brutal plunge, each deep thrust a punishing claim that made her scream—"Ohh, Abir, stop!"—her breasts bouncing with each slam, her second breaking point a desperate wail, her body trembling as he continued, his hands gripping her hips with savage force.
He threw her to the floor, entering from above with relentless depth, her moans—"Mmm, too deep!"—her third breaking point a hoarse cry, her breasts jiggling as he squeezed them, his rage unyielding, the audience watching with bated breath.
Next, he turned to Sneha, yanking her up by her arms, her scream—"Ahh!"—sharp as he pinned her against a canvas stand, entering her with a deep, brutal thrust, her full breasts bouncing wildly with each savage stroke. "Ohh, Abir, yes!" she gasped initially, her voluptuous body arching, but her pleas soon followed—"Please, stop!"—her eyes rolling back as her first breaking point hit, her juices flowing. His hands squeezed her breasts with rough force, his fingers pinching her nipples with savage intensity, her screams—"Ahhh, no!"—filling the studio as he thrust deeper.
Abir lifted her legs, thrusting with grinding brutality, her moans—"Mmm, too much!"—her second breaking point a trembling cry, her breasts bouncing against the stand, his hands gripping her butt with bruising force.
He dragged her to a worktable, binding her wrists with a paint-stained cloth, thrusting upward with savage speed, her screams—"Ohh, Abir, stop!"—her third breaking point a guttural moan, her breasts jiggling as he squeezed them, his rage consuming him.
The encounter stretched on, a relentless marathon of passion and power. Abir moved between them, his deep thrusts a brutal symphony, their screams and moans—"Mmm, Abir, no!"—a chaotic chorus as he destroyed them. Kavya's fourth breaking point hit as he slammed into her again, her eyes rolling back, Sneha's fourth as he pinned her down, their bodies marked with red welts and sweat, Nisha, Priya, and Ananya watching with wide eyes, their breaths quickening.
While fucking Sneha, Abir's gaze shifted, catching a shadow flickering near the window—a silhouette he instantly recognized as Meera. Her presence, a silent witness to his dominance, sent a thrill through him. He smiled darkly, his thrusts into Sneha growing harder, each deep plunge a deliberate show, her screams—"Ahhh, Abir, please!"—rising as her fifth breaking point hit, her body quaking under his relentless assault, her breasts bouncing wildly, his hands squeezing her butt with bruising force.
The next day afternoon, Abir sat in the classroom, the golden sunlight streaming through the windows, casting shadows across the desks. His mind still buzzed with the previous day's intensity when the door opened. Ananya entered, her yellow kurta swaying as she approached, her voice soft but firm. "Abir, it's my turn."
Before Abir could respond, the door swung open again, and Meera strode in, her pink saree flowing, her violet bra faintly visible through the sheer fabric. Her eyes locked on Abir, her voice commanding. "Abir, come to my office."