Chapter 30: rim service
The heated cedar of the sauna wall seared my cheek as Swati ground her cunt against my face. "Lick, you little chuha," she snarled, her thighs clamping my head while Vishal’s fingers plunged into my soaking pussy from behind. I tasted her climax, bitter and sharp, as she yanked my hair, forcing me to swallow every drop. Later, bound spread-eagle to the bedposts with velvet restraints, I could only watch her impale herself on Vishal’s cock. "See how he throbs for curves you'll never have?" she taunted, rocking against him. "Beg to taste us." I did, my voice a broken whisper, and she laughed as I strained to lick their joined sweat. Swati then ordered me onto my knees, making me service them both with my mouth, alternating between the musky salt of her ass and the dark, potent taste of his. "You exist to assist our love," Vishal grunted, his hand fisted in my hair. Finally, Swati gave a curt nod. "Fuck her ass, Vishal. Let the chuha feel what a real woman allows." He pushed into my tightness, a brutal, stretching invasion that made me cry out. Swati watched, her slaps stinging my face and his back, her words a whip. "You're both my filthy animals."
Then she kissed me, her tongue plunging in to share the taste, a twisted communion that sealed my corruption. “On your knees, Nupur,” Vishal whispered, his voice rough as he turned me, my back to his chest, my ass pressed against his hard, wet cock. He spit onto his fingers, the sound crude in the quiet room, and began rubbing the slick around my tight, untouched hole. “Look at her, Swati, she’s trembling,” he said, a note of awe in his tone as his thick fingertip pressed slowly, inexorably against my rim.
My Didi leaned in, her breath hot on my ear, and began her litany. “You’re just a hungry little asshole waiting for its first fucking,” she hissed. “You want his cock to split you open like he did to me.” Her words sent a shock through my belly. “You’re going to be his personal shithole from now on.” A second finger joined the first, a burning, stretching invasion that made me gasp. “I bet you dream about taking his cum up your dirty little backdoor.” My own slickness dripped down my thigh. “You love being our filthy puppet, don’t you?” She punctuated each word with a sharp slap on my ass. “After this, you’ll beg for it every time you see him.” Vishal’s fingers worked deeper, scissoring, preparing me. “You’re going to scream when you come from just your ass being raped.” I was panting, my head falling back against his shoulder. “Your pussy is weeping because it’s jealous of where he’s going.” The truth of it was a devastating bolt of pleasure. “And when he’s done,” Swati finished, her voice dropping to a guttural growl, “you’re going to suck my clit clean and thank me for letting him ruin you.”
Every vile, beautiful word coiled in my gut, a live wire of shame and absolute need. “Please,” I whimpered, the word stripped bare, no longer knowing what I was begging for. Vishal lined up the blunt, insistent head of his cock at my entrance, and the world narrowed to that single point of pressure, pain, and terrifying promise.