The afternoon sun filtered weakly through the grimy windows of the college's abandoned storehouse, casting a dim, dusty light over the cavernous space. Professor Shila led Abir through the creaking door, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and anticipation. Inside, a circle of chairs held Joita, Monika, Meera, Nisha, Riya, Ananya, Kavya, Sneha, Priya, and Rishita, their eyes turning as one to the newcomers. The women's gazes ranged from curiosity to hunger, their presence a silent testament to the stakes at play.
Shila halted in the center, her navy saree swaying with authority as she faced Abir. "I've honored your terms, Abir," she declared, her voice resonant with resolve. "Now fulfill your promise and give me what I've craved." Abir's lips curled into a confident grin, his eyes gleaming with control. "Gladly, Shila," he replied, his tone a velvet challenge. "But you must take the first step—show me your desire."
A sly smirk played on Shila's lips as she guided him to the middle of the circle, the women's stares intensifying. With deliberate grace, she knelt before him, her fingers deftly unfastening his pants and sliding them down with his underwear, exposing his hardened length. Her hands encircled his dick, her touch tentative yet eager as she began licking and sucking, her lips enveloping him with growing fervor. Overwhelmed by the surge of pleasure, Abir gripped her head, his fingers tangling in her auburn bun, and thrust into her mouth with primal force. His rhythm escalated, and with a guttural groan, he pushed his entire length deep, holding her head firm against him. As her breath faltered, her face flushing with strain, he released her, and she gasped for air, her chest heaving.
Shila rose, her hands trembling as she unwrapped her saree, letting it pool at her feet, followed by her blouse. Her body was a vision of mature allure—full, rounded breasts with darkened nipples, a taut waist flaring into curvaceous hips, and long, toned legs that trembled with anticipation. Her skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, her vulnerability laid bare. Leaning close, she whispered huskily, "Rip my soul apart, Abir. I am your willing slave—destroy me with your power." Abir's breath hitched, a whisper of raw pleasure escaping him, "Oh, I will, Shila—every inch of you."
Fueled by her plea, Abir unleashed his brutality, taking her with unrelenting force.
He threw her to the dusty floor, thrusting into her wet pussy with savage depth, the wood groaning beneath. Her moans filled the air, loud and unrestrained.
He pinned her against the rough wall, ramming with brutal intensity, her back scraping as she cried out, the circle watching intently.
He bent her over a chair, hammering with apocalyptic force, the metal creaking, her moans echoing off the walls.
He lifted her onto a rickety table, plunging with earth-shattering power, the surface shuddering, her cries rising.
Shila's voice broke through, ragged yet defiant. "Harder, Abir! I tried to threaten you—punish me! Show me no mercy!" Her words ignited a rage within him, his movements growing rougher, his grip bruising. Her moans morphed into piercing screams—"No, Abir, please!"—as she begged, but he ignored her pleas, his thrusts unrelenting.
He dragged her to the ledge, bending her over the cold frame, thrusting with merciless force, her screams reverberating.
He twisted her onto her side on the floor, pounding with savage speed, her cries growing hoarse, the dust rising around them.
He hoisted her to a low beam, ramming with apocalyptic power, her body shaking, her screams fading into gasps.
He bent her over another chair, crushing her with brutal depth, the frame splintering, her pleas ignored.
He threw her back to the floor, grinding into her with relentless fury, her body limp, his thrusts continuing without mercy.
Shila lay barely conscious, her body glistening with sweat, her saree and blouse discarded, her breaths shallow. Yet Abir showed no sign of stopping, his energy a relentless storm. Joita, unable to wait longer, shed her dress, her lithe form stepping forward, her eyes alight with hunger. "Abir, leave her," she urged, her voice thick with need. "We're starving for you too—satisfy us." Monika rose, her muscular frame imposing, her voice a bold challenge. "Yes, Abir, we didn't gather just to spectate. Don't squander your strength on a broken woman. Prove you're a man—take us all on. Are you man enough for this, Abir?" Abir's smirk widened, a predatory glint in his eyes.