Chapter 9: Neha loves it!
The air conditioner’s hum was louder now, a mechanical drone trying to fill the thick silence. My cheek was pressed against Vishal’s damp, heaving chest. Every muscle in my body felt liquid, useless. Beneath me, his heartbeat hammered, a frantic drum against my ear, slowly starting to settle. Neha still knelt between his legs, her forehead resting on his inner thigh, her breath hot and uneven on his skin. Her hand was down the front of his discarded jeans, fingers moving slowly, absently, over her own wetness. The scent of sex was overwhelming – salty, musky, thick enough to choke on, mixed with the hotel soap’s cloying floral smell.
Vishal stirred, a low groan rumbling through him. His hand, which had been clamped on my hip like a vise, loosened, sliding up my back in a shaky caress that felt more like exhaustion than affection. His eyes were closed, his face slack. Emptied. Broken, maybe. Like after the first time, but somehow… different. Less terror. More shell-shock.
"Didi..." Neha’s voice was a rasp, muffled against his leg. She lifted her head, pushing sweaty hair off her face. Her eyes were huge, dark pools reflecting the harsh bathroom light, pupils still blown wide. Not with pain anymore. With a hunger that hadn’t been satisfied. A raw, greedy need that scared me a little. "Didi," she said again, her gaze locking onto mine, then drifting down to where Vishal lay soft against his thigh, glistening. "Ek baar aur?"
Once more?
She pushed herself up, wincing only slightly. The ache from Vishal’s brutal first entry was clearly fading, replaced by something hotter, more urgent. She crawled forward, her heavy breasts swaying, until she was level with his hips. She didn’t touch him yet. Just looked. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. "Poora," she breathed, the word thick with desire. "Teesra hole bhi. Saara maza lo." The whole thing. The third hole too. Take all the pleasure.
Vishal’s eyes snapped open. He stared at her, then at me, propped on his chest. Confusion. Dread. And beneath it, a reluctant flicker that wasn’t entirely unwilling. The memory of her tight heat, her choked cries turning to moans, her body pushing back against his invasion… it was still fresh. Potent.
"Neha..." he started, his voice wrecked.
"Karwao na, didi?" Neha implored, ignoring him, looking only at me. Her hand crept forward, fingers hovering inches from Vishal’s soft cock. "Please? Tere liye ready ho jayega phir se. Tere haath se." Make him do it, sister? Please? He’ll get ready for you again. By your hand.
The power shift was dizzying. From blackmail victim to demanding queen. And she was handing me the reins. I pushed myself up, sitting back on his thighs, feeling the solid muscle beneath me. My own need was a dull throb, sated for the moment but easily stirred again. The power to command Vishal, to shape his pleasure, to push him just so… it was intoxicating. More intoxicating than the sex itself.
I met his eyes. "Tayyar ho jao, Vishal," I said, my voice low, steady. Not asking. Stating. Get ready. My hand slid down his stomach, through the coarse hair, fingers closing gently around him. He was soft, spent. But warm. Alive. I felt him jump at my touch. "Bas soch, kaise usko choda tha tune," I murmured, stroking him with deliberate slowness. Just think how you fucked her. My other hand traced the lines of his hip bone. "Kaise chillayi thi. Phir kaise… haan kaha usne." How she screamed. Then how she… said yes.
My fingers tightened slightly, pulsing. His breath hitched. Beneath my palm, I felt the faintest stirring. A thickening. Neha made a soft, eager sound. She shifted, turning, presenting herself to him, her heavy backside lifted, her thighs spread. The pink, swollen evidence of his earlier violence was stark in the light. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes burning into his. "Aao na, Vishal," she whispered. "Pura lo. Jitna chahiye." Come on, Vishal. Take it all. Whatever you want.
My hand worked him, a slow, steady rhythm. Not enough to push him over. Just enough to build. To tease. I watched his face, the struggle playing out – exhaustion warring with the images I was painting, the offering Neha was presenting. His cock responded faster this time, filling, hardening under my persistent touch, becoming solid and heavy in my grip. Neha groaned, watching it rise. "Haan! Waah, didi, dekho!" Yes! Wow, sister, look!
He was fully hard again, thick and flushed, pulsing against my fingers. The transformation from broken man to aroused animal was shocking. Primal. I squeezed the base firmly, feeling the blood rush there, holding him at the edge. Edging. Letting the pressure build without release. Vishal gasped, his hips lifting involuntarily off the tub edge, seeking more friction. "Anu... please..."
"Patience," I breathed, leaning down, my lips brushing his ear. My other hand slid lower, cupping his balls, heavy and tight. I rolled them gently in my palm, feeling the tension coiling there. "Dheere se. Sab kuch achche se feel kar." Slowly. Feel everything properly. I looked at Neha, still poised, trembling slightly with anticipation. "Pehle iska mooh le." Take her mouth first.
Vishal didn't hesitate. He surged forward, almost pushing me off, his hands gripping Neha's hips. He pulled her back towards him, his cock sliding easily between her slick folds, bumping against her entrance, leaving a wet trail – but then pushing further back, rubbing firmly against her tight, hidden rosette. Neha moaned, pushing back. "Haan... wahan... haan..." Yes... there... yes...
He guided himself with one hand, the thick head pressing, spreading her. Neha gasped, her back arching. "Ah! Thoda... thoda dard..." A little... little pain... But she didn't pull away. She pushed harder. Vishal groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure need, and pushed forward. Neha cried out, sharp, as the thick crown breached her, stretching her unbearably. Vishal froze, panting. I squeezed the base of his cock hard, preventing him from driving deeper.
"Dheere se," I commanded, my voice tight. My hand on his balls tightened slightly. "Feel karo. Feel kaise tight hai." Slowly. Feel. Feel how tight she is. My thumb rubbed the sensitive skin behind his balls, the spot that made him shudder violently. "Ab... andar jao." Now... go in.
He obeyed, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he pushed forward, inch by agonizing inch. Neha was whimpering, her fingers clawing at the smooth tub surface. "Ah! Ah! Ruk...!" Stop...! But the pain was laced with that strange, building heat. Vishal bottomed out, buried to the hilt inside her tight channel. He held himself there, trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Ghuma," I whispered, my lips against his shoulder. My hand still held him firmly at the base, my other massaging his taut balls. "Halka sa." Move. Gently.
He pulled back slowly, the stretch intense for Neha, a choked sob escaping her. Then he pushed forward again, a shallow thrust. He did it again. And again. Building a rhythm. Neha's sobs turned to low moans. Her body began to move with him, pushing back to meet each thrust. "Haan... haan... aise..." Yes... yes... like that...
I felt the tension in his cock, the telltale pulse beneath my fingers. He was close. Too close. I squeezed harder, my thumbnail pressing just below the head. He cried out, his hips snapping back. "Nahi! Abhi nahi!" No! Not yet!
Neha whimpered at the sudden loss. "Kyun roka?" Why stop?
I ignored her. "Usko ghuma," I told Vishal, my voice thick with my own building lust. Watching him, controlling him, controlling her through him... it was a drug. "Usko mera mooh de." Move her. Give me her mouth.
Vishal’s hands tightened on Neha’s hips. He pulled her roughly backwards, his cock slipping free from her tight grip with a wet sound. Neha gasped. Before she could react, he manhandled her, turning her, dragging her up his body until she was straddling his lap, facing him. Her heavy breasts pressed against his chest. He captured her mouth in a hungry, biting kiss, one hand fisting in her hair. His other hand slid between them, fingers seeking her wet heat.
"Mooh le," I ordered Neha, breaking their kiss. Take him in your mouth.
Neha didn't need telling twice. She slid down his body, her lips closing over the slick head of his cock still glistening from her ass. She took him deep, gagging slightly, but pushing down, her throat working. Vishal threw his head back against the tub with a groan, his hand tightening in her hair. "Ah! Neha!"
"Control karo," I murmured, my hand replacing his in her hair. I guided her rhythm, not letting her take him too deep too fast. Slow, deliberate sucks. My other hand stayed on his cock, just below where her mouth worked, squeezing rhythmically, controlling the flow. Edging him. Keeping him right on the razor's edge. His body was a taut bowstring, every muscle straining. Sweat poured off him. His moans were constant, desperate.
Neha moaned around him, the vibration making him buck. She pulled off, gasping. "Ab... ab didi..." she panted, looking up at me, her lips swollen. "Ab tu... mujhe... piche se." Now... now sister... you... me... from behind. Her eyes flicked down meaningfully.
I understood. The final hole. The one she hadn't offered yet. The one she wanted him in, while I took her front.
I climbed off the tub. Vishal’s eyes, clouded with lust, tracked me. "Uth," I told him. Get up. He stood, shaky-legged. Neha scrambled to her knees, turning, presenting herself again, elbows on the tub edge, her magnificent ass raised high. Vishal stepped behind her, his cock, slick with Neha's saliva, bobbing heavily.
I moved in front of Neha. Her face was flushed, eyes fever-bright. She lunged forward, her mouth finding my breast, sucking my nipple hard, her tongue swirling. Her hands grabbed my ass, pulling me closer. I gasped at the sudden, sharp pleasure. Behind her, Vishal positioned himself. I looked over her shoulder, meeting his eyes. "Dheere nahi," I said, my voice rough. "Jor se. Pel de use." Not slow. Hard. Pound her.
He needed no further urging. With a guttural sound, he drove forward, burying himself in her wet heat in one brutal thrust. Neha screamed against my breast, the sound muffled, her body jolting forward. But she didn't pull away. She bit down on my nipple, hard, sending shocks straight to my core. Her hands dug into my ass cheeks.
The rhythm was punishing. Vishal slammed into her, the wet slap of flesh on flesh echoing off the tiles, punctuated by his ragged grunts and Neha's choked cries against my skin. I held her head to my breast, my fingers tangling in her hair. My other hand slid between us, finding Vishal’s balls swinging heavily. I cupped them, massaging, rolling them, feeling the tightness, the imminent eruption building.
He was close. So close. His thrusts became erratic, frantic. Neha was moaning constantly now, a high-pitched whine of overwhelming sensation. Her body was taking it all, the brutal invasion, my fingers on her clit, Vishal’s power driving into her.
"Roko!" I gasped, my own control slipping. Stop! I squeezed his balls hard.
He froze, buried deep, a strangled cry tearing from his throat. Shudders wracked his body. He hovered on the precipice, trembling violently.
"Bas... thoda..." I panted, my fingers moving frantically on Neha. She was bucking wildly. "Ab... Vishal... nikal... mooh mein daal." Just... a little... Now... Vishal... pull out... put it in her mouth.
With agonizing slowness, fighting every instinct, he pulled his slick cock free. Neha whimpered at the loss. Before she could react, I pushed her head down. Vishal guided himself, the swollen head bumping her lips. She opened instinctively, taking him in, deep. The moment he was fully sheathed in her mouth, I released my grip on his balls and pressed down hard on the base of his cock.
He exploded. A raw, animal roar ripped through him as he came, hard jets pulsing down Neha’s throat. Her eyes flew wide, then fluttered closed as she swallowed convulsively, moaning, her own climax crashing over her as my fingers worked her clit. Her body clenched and released, milking him as he emptied himself into her mouth, his hips jerking uncontrollably.
I watched, my own heart hammering, my skin on fire. The connection, the control, the sheer, raw animal completion between them, orchestrated by me… it flooded me with a dark, all-consuming satisfaction far deeper than any physical release I’d ever known. Vishal finally stilled, gasping, his weight sagging. Neha slumped forward, her cheek resting on the tub, panting, a trickle of white escaping the corner of her swollen lips.
The air conditioner hummed. The only other sounds were their harsh breathing and the frantic pounding of my own heart. The bathroom smelled like victory. And salt. And emptiness.