Chapter 15: Hidden while fucntion
The heavy scent of sandalwood incense couldn't mask the underlying smell of sweat and stale samosas. Laughter and loud chatter from dozens of relatives filled the sprawling banquet hall, echoing off the high ceilings decorated with garish marigold garlands. Priya leaned against the cool marble pillar near the darkened service corridor entrance, her eyes sharp and knowing. "He's waiting," she murmured, nodding towards the shadowed alcove behind the heavy velvet curtains screening the unused stage area. "Saw him slip in five minutes ago. Horny bastard." My heart hammered against my ribs, the intricate embroidery of my crimson lehenga suddenly feeling like a cage. "Priya, someone will see... Mummy just passed by..."
"Fuck 'em," Priya hissed, her fingers digging into my arm, propelling me forward through the gap in the curtains before I could protest further. The darkness swallowed us, thick and dusty, the muffled sounds of the party instantly distant. Vishal materialized from the deeper shadows, his eyes gleaming with raw hunger, his erection already straining visibly against his tight kurta pajamas. He didn't speak, just grabbed my waist, spun me roughly to face the curtain, and shoved my lehenga skirt up around my hips. Cool air hit my bare thighs and ass; Priya hadn't let me wear underwear. "Vishal, please, not here..." I whimpered, pressing my forehead against the rough velvet, hearing Auntie Shobha's distinct cackle just feet away.
"Shut up, randi," Priya whispered hotly in my ear from behind, her hands gripping my hips, holding me steady. "Take his cock. Now." Vishal spat thickly onto his palm, slicked his hard length, and without preamble, drove himself deep into my unprotected cunt from behind. The sudden, brutal invasion forced a choked gasp from my throat. He fucked hard and fast, his hips slamming against my ass with wet, rhythmic slaps that sounded terrifyingly loud in the confined space. Each thrust jolted me forward against the curtain, the fabric scraping my cheek. Priya's fingers slid between my legs from behind, finding my clit, rubbing in harsh, demanding circles that sent conflicting shocks of pain and unwanted pleasure through my core. "Feel him splitting you open?" Priya breathed, her own breath ragged. "While your fucking family eats ladoos outside?"
Vishal groaned, burying his face in my neck, biting down hard enough to bruise, his pace becoming frantic, desperate. "Fuck, Isha... your tight little cunt... gonna cum..." Priya pinched my clit viciously. "Not yet, saala," she commanded Vishal, her other hand reaching back to squeeze the base of his cock hard inside me. He shuddered violently, gritting his teeth, forcing himself still, buried deep. Priya leaned around me, her lips brushing Vishal's ear. "Pull out. Cover her mangalsutra." With a tortured groan, Vishal obeyed, dragging his slick cock from my aching hole. He gripped himself, jerking furiously, thick ropes of hot cum spurting across the gold pendant resting between my breasts, dripping onto the red silk of my choli. He slumped back against a dusty prop trunk, panting.
Priya watched the sticky white mess glisten on the sacred symbol, then met my terrified eyes. Her smile was cold, triumphant. "Clean yourself up, slut. Dinner's being served."