The dim light of the abandoned storehouse pulsed with an electric tension as Abir stood amidst the circle of women, his smirk a silent promise of the challenge ahead. The air was thick with the scent of dust, sweat, and raw desire, the creaking wood underfoot amplifying the charged atmosphere. At 02:30 PM IST on Friday, October 24, 2025, the moment hung heavy, Joita and Monika's bold words still echoing—"Prove you're a man—take us all on. Are you man enough for this, Abir?" Shila lay crumpled on the floor, her saree and blouse discarded, her body glistening with sweat and trembling from exhaustion, a testament to his unrelenting dominance.
Abir's eyes swept the circle—Joita, Monika, Meera, Nisha, Riya, Ananya, Kavya, Sneha, Priya, and Rishita—each woman poised with a mix of anticipation and hunger. His blood roared with the primal urge to conquer, the rage from Shila's earlier provocation now a wildfire demanding release. "I am here ladies," he growled, his voice a deep, commanding rumble, "come and take your share."
The women moved as one, shedding their clothes with eager hands, their bodies a symphony of curves and desire. The storehouse became a battlefield of lust, Abir at its center, his strength unwavering as he met their challenge head-on.
Joita pounced, dragging him to the floor, her lithe body entwining with his as he thrust into her with savage brutality. Her scream—"Ahhh!"—shattered the silence, her breasts bouncing wildly, the dusty floor quaking beneath their fervor, his relentless pace driving her to a shuddering climax.
Monika seized him, slamming him against the wall, her muscular frame yielding as he rammed deep with apocalyptic force. Her howl—"Ohhh!"—pierced the air, her breasts flattening against the rough surface, her body convulsing in a powerful orgasm, his thrusts unrelenting.
Meera pulled him to a chair, bending over its back as he hammered with earth-shattering power, the metal screeching. Her cry—"Aaaah!"—exploded, her breasts swaying, her climax ripping through her, Abir's rhythm never faltering.
Nisha yanked him to the desk, spreading her legs as he plunged with devastating depth, the wood splintering. Her moan—"Ohhhh!"—turned into a wail, her breasts heaving, her body arching in ecstasy, his pace a merciless storm.
Riya hauled him to the window ledge, bending over the cold frame as he thrust with savage intensity, the glass trembling. Her scream—"Ahhhh!"—reached a crescendo, her breasts pressed against the pane, her climax a violent wave, Abir driving through it.
Ananya twisted onto her side on the floor, his pounding a brutal symphony, the tiles shuddering. Her moan—"Ooooh!"—became a guttural cry, her breasts jiggling, her orgasm crashing over her, his thrusts a relentless tide.
Kavya hoisted herself to a low beam, his ramming with apocalyptic force shaking her core. Her scream—"Aaaah!"—merged with her climax, her breasts quaking, the beam groaning, Abir's energy unyielding.
Sneha bent over a collapsing chair, his crushing depth splitting the frame, her body quivering. Her howl—"Ohhhh!"—peaked with her orgasm, her breasts mashed against the wood, Abir's rage propelling him onward.
Priya sprawled on the floor, his grinding fury shaking the earth, her form writhing. Her moan—"Ahhhh!"—dissolved into a scream, her breasts flattened, her climax a shattering release, his thrusts a ceaseless onslaught.
Rishita pressed against the wall, his final thrust a cataclysmic blow, the plaster cracking. Her scream—"Ohhh!"—culminated in a synchronized roar as all ten women, caught in the throes of their individual climaxes, unleashed a collective, earth-shaking orgasm. The room thick with the pungent odor of their exertion, Abir showing no sign of stopping.
The storehouse trembled, the air thick with the pungent odor of their release, their bodies convulsing in unison, breasts heaving, hips bucking, and voices merging into a primal chorus of ecstasy. Abir stood at the epicenter, his own release a powerful surge, his chest heaving, his skin drenched in their shared fluids, a god-like figure amid the chaos.
The women, one by one, collapsed or leaned against the walls, their bodies glistening with sweat, their breaths ragged, yet their eyes still burned with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. Shila, regaining some awareness, watched from the floor, her gaze a complex weave of awe and lingering desire. Abir stood amidst the chaos, his chest heaving, his skin slick with their combined fluids, a triumphant yet insatiable glint in his eyes.
Joita, catching her breath, smirked weakly. "You've proven your strength, Abir," she panted, her voice laced with admiration. "But can you survive our encore?" Monika, rising with effort, her muscular frame trembling, added with a fierce laugh, "This was just the warm-up, Abir. Push us to our limits—or break trying. Are you ready?"