The humid evening air of Mumbai Railway Station, wrapped around Mr. Krishna as he stepped out of the bustling railway station, his body weary from the long journey from Hyderabad. The cacophony of honking rickshaws, chattering crowds, and the distant hum of the city's ceaseless energy filled his ears. He scanned the sea of faces, his eyes searching for a familiar one. His friend, Mr. Prakash, was supposed to pick him up, but there was no sign of him. Krishna sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, the weight of it a constant reminder of his exhaustion.
Twenty minutes passed, and the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the city. The air grew cooler, but Krishna's impatience only intensified. Just as he was about to call Prakash again, the familiar roar of a bike engine cut through the noise. Prakash pulled up, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry, sorry, Krishna! Traffic was a nightmare," he shouted over the engine's rumble. Krishna couldn't help but smile back, relief washing over him. "It's okay, yaar. Just get me to your place. I desperately need a bath," Krishna replied, swinging his bag onto his back.
Prakash's rented apartment was a modest but cozy space, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. As Krishna stepped inside, the scent of home-cooked food greeted him, making his stomach growl. But what truly caught his attention was the woman standing in the living room. Neeraja, Prakash's wife, was a vision. Her fair skin glowed under the soft light, and her maroon Punjabi dress accentuated her curves, the fabric hugging her 36-32-38 figure perfectly. She was 5.7 feet tall, her height adding to her commanding presence. Her smile was warm and inviting, her eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and kindness.
"Welcome, Krishna. Prakash has told me so much about you," she said, her voice melodic and soothing. Krishna felt a sudden surge of energy, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. "Thank you, Neeraja. It's a pleasure to meet you," he replied, returning her smile.
Prakash hurried Krishna along, insisting he take a bath and freshen up before dinner. The warm water cascading over his body was a welcome relief, washing away the grime of travel. He changed into a traditional lungi and a vest, feeling more like himself. When he emerged, he found Prakash in shorts and a white T-shirt, the two men sharing a comfortable camaraderie. Neeraja had set the table with an array of vegetarian dishes, the aroma filling the room and making Krishna's mouth water.
As they sat down to eat, Krishna couldn't help but steal glances at Neeraja. Her lips, full and inviting, her chubby cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, her long nose that gave her an air of elegance, and her hands, delicate yet strong. His eyes wandered to her exposed thighs, the sight sending a jolt of desire through him. Neeraja noticed his gaze and shyly combed her long hair with her fingers, tucking a strand behind her ear. The gesture was innocent, yet it only fueled Krishna's imagination.
Dinner was a lively affair, filled with laughter and reminiscing about their past adventures. Prakash recounted their trip to China for a biotech company training, the memories bringing a sense of nostalgia. Krishna found himself relaxing, the stress of his journey melting away.
After dinner, Prakash suggested they have some beer and wine. Krishna hesitated, mindful of his interview the next morning, but Neeraja insisted. "Come on, Krishna. A few sips won't hurt. It's a celebration of sorts, isn't it?" she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Krishna couldn't resist her charm and agreed.
"Challenge accepted," he said.
Neeraja giggled and did the same, her breasts bouncing as she moved. Prakash chuckled and raised his glass.
They sat in a circle on a coffee table, the alcohol flowing freely. Krishna's heart raced at the suggestion. He knew he shouldn't play along, but the temptation was too great. With a devilish grin, he reached for his glass.
"To friendship and beautiful women," he said, winking at Neeraja.
As the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Krishna felt his inhibitions melting away. He couldn't keep his eyes off Neeraja, drinking in the sight of her lush curves and imagining all the things he wanted to do to her.
Prakash just laughed and reached for the hem of her nightgown. Slowly, teasingly, he began to inch it up her thighs, revealing more and more of her smooth, creamy skin.
Neeraja squirmed and giggled, trying to push his hands away. "Stop it, you brute!" she cried, but there was no real anger in her voice.
Krishna watched, transfixed, as Prakash finally tugged the nightgown over Neeraja's head and tossed it aside. She sat there for a moment, bare except for a pair of lacy pink panties that left little to the imagination.
He found himself praising Neeraja's beauty, telling Prakash how lucky he was to have such a sexy wife. "I must admit, I'm a bit jealous," Krishna said, his words slightly slurred. Prakash laughed, a glint of understanding in his eyes. "Well, Krishna, since you're so envious, how about a little game?" he suggested. Krishna raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Prakash explained the rules: each of them had a small glass in front of them. If one sipped the entire wine or whisky at a time, the opposite person of their choice would remove one piece of clothing. Krishna felt a thrill of excitement, his penis already at half-mast.
The game began, and Neeraja was the first to take a sip. She downed her glass in one go, her eyes locked on Krishna's. With a shy smile, she began to remove her dress, the fabric slipping off her shoulders and pooling at her feet. Krishna's breath hitched as he took in the sight of her in a short pink sleeveless nightgown. Her nipples were visible through the thin fabric, her breasts full and inviting. He felt his penis harden to a 90-degree angle, the sight of her almost too much to bear.
Prakash noticed Krishna's reaction and grinned. "Why don't you kiss her, Krishna? She's clearly enjoying this as much as you are," he said, his voice encouraging. Krishna hesitated, but Neeraja didn't. She climbed onto his lap, her body pressing against his, and gave him a soft, lingering kiss. Her lips were warm and sweet, her tongue teasing his. He groaned, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer. She took his hand and placed it on her breast, the weight of it fitting perfectly in his palm. He squeezed, her nipple hardening under his touch. She moaned softly, the sound going straight to his cock. She then guided his hand lower, her fingers intertwining with his as she led him to her vagina. He could feel the heat of her, the wetness, and it drove him wild. She stroked his penis with her left hand, her touch sure and confident. "Suck it," Krishna groaned, his voice rough with desire. Neeraja smiled, her eyes dark with lust, and took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his cock. Prakash watched, a beer bottle in his hand, his eyes gleaming with arousal. He danced slightly, encouraging them, his own desire evident.
Around 11 PM, they moved to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation. The room was lit softly, the music playing in the background adding to the sensual atmosphere. Neeraja sat on top of Krishna, her body moving in a rhythm that drove him crazy. He could feel her tightness, her wetness, and it was almost too much. He thrust into her Vulva, his cock filling her completely, and she shouted, the sound echoing in the room. Krishna gripped her breasts tightly, squeezing and teasing her nipples with his teeth. The sensation made her cry out in pleasure.
Prakash stood beside them, his own cock in his hand, stroking himself as he watched. He came, his cum splashing onto Neeraja's face, marking her. She gasped, her body shuddering with pleasure, and Krishna could feel her orgasm, her walls clenching around him. He couldn't hold back any longer and released his own load, his sperm filling her. She collapsed onto him, her body spent but her eyes still hungry. "More," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire.
Krishna leaned down to bite Neeraja’s plump buttocks tasting her blabber skin, eliciting a sharp cry from her that quickly turned into a moan of pleasure. “More,” she begged, her voice trembling with need. Krishna obliged, thrusting deeper and harder until they both came together, their cries mingling in the steamy room.
"You're much better than my wife, Apurva," Krishna groaned, his words muffled against her skin. Neeraja smiled, taking it as a compliment, her body arching against his.
The next morning, they woke up around 10 AM, the events of the previous night still fresh in their minds. Krishna hurried to get ready for his interview, his body humming with a sense of satisfaction and relaxation.
Neeraja made breakfast, serving Poha, the simple dish a comfort after the intensity of the previous night. Prakash took Krishna to the company location, the two men sharing a comfortable silence. The interview went smoothly, Krishna's confidence and calm demeanor impressing the interviewers. He secured the job, the news filling him with a sense of accomplishment.
As they left the building, Krishna turned to Prakash, a grateful smile on his face. "Thank you, Prakash. For everything. Last night was... incredible. It helped me stay stress-free during the interview," he said, his voice sincere. Prakash clapped him on the back, his own smile wide and genuine. "Anytime, Krishna. Anytime," he replied, the promise of more adventures hanging in the air between them.
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