Hi, I’m Sam, and I’m here to share a story from my life that took me on a rollercoaster of love, betrayal, and uncontrollable desire. This tale begins during my college days when a girl named Shruti entered my world and changed everything.
In college, I was a quiet, lonely guy. I didn’t make friends or talk much. I spent my time studying, hitting the gym, and working a part-time computer job. My body was fit—broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and a decent face—but I had no friends. Loneliness gnawed at me, leaving me sad and lost in my thoughts.
One day, I was sitting in the college canteen with my head down, eating alone. A girl sat next to me, also with her head lowered, looking at me. I glanced at her and quickly turned away. She laughed and said, “What’s wrong? Why so shy?” I stammered, “No, it’s not like that.”
She smiled, “Then why’d you turn your face away?”
I mumbled, “Just like that. Why are you sitting with me instead of your friends?”
She chuckled, “Call me Shruti. You’re always alone, and I don’t like seeing you so sad. That’s why I’m here.”
Her words carried a warmth that touched me. We started talking, and slowly, we became good friends. Shruti became the color in my otherwise gray life. She was my best friend. Her open, friendly nature made me feel at ease. After college, we’d roam Delhi’s streets, watch movies, and spend hours chatting in cafes. She’d often hold my hand while walking, and I didn’t mind—it was just her way.
Shruti was stunning. Her fair, glowing skin, full lips, and fit figure made her look like a Bollywood star. Her smile could melt anyone’s heart. Many guys in college were jealous because she spent so much time with me. Deep down, I started falling for her. At night, in my room, I’d fantasize about her naked body, imagine fucking her, and jerk off to thoughts of our suhagraat. But I never looked at her with bad intentions. To me, she was my friend—and maybe something more.
College ended, but our friendship stayed strong. We kept meeting, and my love for her grew deeper. I decided to confess my feelings on my birthday. I bought a diamond ring and planned to make the night unforgettable. I picked her up in my car. She looked breathtaking in a red dress that hugged her curves, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I was dressed sharply too. We kept stealing glances at each other. I kissed her hand, and she blushed, giggling.
I took her to a fancy restaurant in Delhi. We cut my birthday cake, enjoyed a delicious dinner, and then went to a beautiful park to stroll. My heart was pounding. I thought, Tonight, I’ll tell her I love her and make her mine forever. While walking, I led her to a quiet corner of the park. She asked, “Why’d you bring me here?” I knelt down, pulled out the ring, and tried to slip it on her finger. But she pulled her hand back. I noticed a ring already on her finger.
Confused, I asked, “Whose ring is that?”
She said softly, “My fiancé gave it to me.”
I was shocked. “What do you mean?”
She stayed silent. I stood up, angry, and said, “Why didn’t you tell me before? I love you, Shruti. Don’t you love me?”
She replied, “Look, Sam, it’s not like that. You’re my best friend, but I love my fiancé.”
I was furious. I grabbed her hand and pleaded, “Shruti, don’t do this to me. I can’t live without you.” But she didn’t budge. She pushed me away and left. That night, my heart shattered. I cried all night, feeling my world collapse.
Days passed. Then a friend told me Shruti got married. She didn’t invite me or even send a card. I was devastated. Two years went by. I landed a good job in Delhi and lived in a flat. Life was on track, but my heart was still empty. One morning, I was sleeping when some noise woke me up. I looked outside and saw people moving into the flat across from mine. When I looked closely, it was none other than Shruti. But now, she wasn’t my girlfriend—she was someone’s wife. Still, seeing her made my heart race with joy.
I remembered I had booked movie tickets for that day. I went to watch the movie, so I couldn’t meet Shruti. The whole time, I was thinking about seeing her and reliving old memories. After the movie, I was driving home. It was pouring rain, and I was blasting music, lost in the moment. The road was deserted, and the rain fueled my restlessness. Caught up in the music, I closed my eyes for a second. When I opened them, a fallen tree was right in front of me. I slammed the brakes, but my car crashed into it. I had an accident. My head was severely injured, and I needed surgery for neurological damage. I spent a month in the hospital.
When I was discharged and returned home, I remembered Shruti was living in the flat across from mine. My neighbor, Rishabh, told me her husband was often away for business, and they had to move frequently. Her husband hadn’t been in Delhi for a month but was due back soon. I was eager to meet her. The next day, I went to her flat. The door was open. I stepped inside, but the hall was empty. Then I heard sounds from the bedroom. As I got closer, the noises grew louder.
Shruti was moaning, “Ahh… ahh… shhh… umm… it feels so good… faster… harder… tear me apart… ahh!” I assumed her husband was back and fucking her. I turned to leave, but then she said something that stopped me: “Yours is bigger and thicker than my husband’s!” I froze. I peeked into the bedroom. The door was open. It wasn’t her husband—it was Rishabh, my neighbor, fucking her.
My heart sank. I couldn’t believe Shruti could do this. She betrayed me years ago, and now she was cheating on her husband. I was angry and heartbroken. I decided to record it and show her husband. I pulled out my phone and started filming. Rishabh was fucking her brutally. His dick wasn’t even that big, but he was pounding her so hard it hurt her. There were bite marks on her boobs, blood on her lips, and blood dripping from her pussy. Maybe her husband’s dick was too small, so she was fucking Rishabh. She was moaning but also crying in pain.
Watching this, my dick got hard, but my heart was filled with rage and sorrow. I recorded everything and left. I waited for her husband to return. The next day, my doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was Shruti, looking stunning in a red saree that accentuated her curves. I wanted to scoop her up and take her to bed, but I ignored her and avoided eye contact. She said, “Sam, you live here?” I replied coldly, “Yeah.”
She sat with me and gave me a strange smile, like she wanted something. But I kept ignoring her. She said, “What’s wrong? Still mad at me?” I stayed silent. She pleaded, “Say something, at least look at me.” I snapped, “What’s left to say? You betrayed me, and yesterday, you cheated on your husband!”
She panicked and asked, “Yesterday? When?” I showed her the video. She was shocked and said, “How did you get this?” I told her I came to meet her yesterday and saw everything. She started crying. Seeing her tears hurt me, but I felt she needed to learn a lesson. Just then, her flat’s doorbell rang. It was her husband. I invited him in and told him everything, showing him the video. He glared at Shruti, who was sobbing. Then he deleted the video from my phone, grabbed her hand, and stormed off to their flat, slamming the door.
I knew Shruti was in for a beating. Soon, I heard things breaking in their flat, then silence. Her crying face flashed in my mind, and I felt pity. I worried her husband might have hurt her. I went to their flat. The door was locked. I pressed my ear against it and heard Shruti moaning again, “Ahh… umm… ohh… fuck me, my husband… show me your manhood… ahh!” Her husband growled, “Will you ever fuck someone else again?” She replied, “No… I swear on you, I’ll never betray you.” They kept fucking.
Hearing this, my faith in the world crumbled. I went home and couldn’t sleep all night. I thought, If the world runs on money and deceit, I’ll change too. If Shruti was beyond saving, why shouldn’t I have some fun?
The next day, her husband left again. I saw my chance and went to her flat. I knocked. She opened the door slightly, saw me, and quickly shut it. I stood there for a moment, then turned to leave. She opened the door again and asked, “What do you want?” I made a sad face, held my ears, and said, “Sorry, I just wanted to apologize.” She said, “Come in.”
She was wearing a yellow saree, looking so gorgeous that I wanted to fuck her right there. She gave me a cold drink but was distant. Yesterday, she was flirty; today, she was cold. I realized her husband’s oath was holding her back. She went to the bedroom for some work. I followed quietly. She saw me and gasped. I locked the bedroom door. She said, “Open the door quietly, or I’ll call the police.” I smirked, “You were having a blast with Rishabh. What’s the problem with me?” She snapped, “Open the door, or I’ll call the cops for real.”
I said, “Fine, but look at this first.” I showed her the video, which I’d saved elsewhere. She said, “Sam, my husband swore me to fidelity. I won’t do anything with you. And that video doesn’t matter anymore—my husband’s seen it. What can you do?” I replied, “I know. That’s why I’m not showing it to him. I’ll show it to your in-laws and parents.”
Her eyes widened. She cried, “Sam, please don’t do this.” Seeing her tears, my heart softened. I loved her, after all. I held her face and looked into her eyes. “Do you love me?” She nodded yes. I was overjoyed. But she said, “Please, don’t do anything. I’m bound by my husband’s oath.”
Hearing she loved me, I lost control. I started kissing her. I sat her on the bed and devoured her soft, warm lips. Her taste drove me wild. She resisted, pushing me away, but I didn’t stop. I wanted to eat her pussy, but she kept her legs crossed, probably because of her oath. I got angry and forced her legs apart. She screamed, “Ahh!” so loudly it startled me.
I was about to dive into her pussy when she grabbed a glass bottle from the bedside table and smashed it on the back of my head, right where I’d had surgery. Blood gushed out, and I passed out.
When I woke up, I was on the bed. A cloth under my head was soaked in blood, and the bed was stained red. I stumbled out of the room and saw Shruti asleep at the dining table, her head down. Food was laid out, and she held my phone. She looked like she’d been crying. My lust was gone, replaced by pity. I sat beside her, head down, watching her. I took my phone from her hand. She also held a broken memory card—she must’ve destroyed it to delete the video.
She woke up. We looked into each other’s eyes. I hugged her and said, “I’m sorry, please forgive me. I lost control.” I started to leave, but she said, “There’s so much food here. Where are you going?” I asked, “You’re not mad at me?” She smiled, “I’ll be madder if you don’t eat.” I sat with her and ate dinner.
She kept looking at me, and I felt shy. She said, “I saw a new side of you today—so angry!” She laughed. I stayed quiet. She continued, “Sorry, Sam. You scared me. When I hit you with the bottle, blood poured out, and you passed out. I was terrified. I stopped the bleeding somehow. You mumbled my name in your unconscious state, which calmed me a bit. I felt awful. Sorry for breaking your memory card. I cried so much because of you.”
I didn’t respond. She said, “So, how many chocolates do you eat daily? Your taste is amazing.” I laughed, “One pack of Dairy Milk every day. Your taste is pretty great too.” She smiled. Then she dropped a bomb: “Tomorrow evening, I’m moving abroad with my husband for his business.” I felt crushed. She said, “Don’t be so sad, Sam. I’m here for one more day.”
I was still down. Shruti took my hand and led me to the bedroom. She sat me on the bed and climbed into my lap. Then she kissed me. I kissed her back, drinking the sweetness of her lips. I sucked her upper lip, then her lower one. This time, it felt even better because she was kissing me back. Her warm, soft mouth set me on fire. I put one hand on her back and used the other to caress her boobs, teasing her nipples. They hardened under my touch. She was breathing heavily, her warm breath hitting my face.
I pulled her saree’s pallu down and kissed her neck, shoulders, and chest. Her fair skin felt like silk under my lips. I stripped off her saree. She stood in a black bra and panties, her body so sexy it drove me insane. Her full boobs, slim waist, and round ass—she was a goddess. I laid her on the bed and kissed every inch of her. From her shoulders to her stomach, I licked and sucked her skin.
She unbuttoned my shirt. Seeing my fit body, she said, “When did you build this body, Sam?” I grinned, “Just for you.” She pushed me down and climbed on top, kissing my chest, abs, and everywhere else. She bit me, leaving marks on my skin. Her tongue glided over my body, making me shiver.
I flipped her over and removed her bra and panties. Her pussy was a sight—pink, clean, and dripping wet. I kissed it first, then started licking slowly. Her pussy smelled like strawberries, intoxicating me. I slid my tongue inside, and her warmth made my dick throb. I looked up; Shruti had her eyes closed, biting her lip, lost in pleasure. I rubbed her boobs, pinching her nipples. Then she came, her pussy juice flooding my mouth. I drank it all, her taste fueling my desire.
I moved to her boobs, sucking them hard. Her nipples were rock-hard in my mouth, and I teased them with my tongue. Shruti moaned, “Ahh… ahh… umm… suck them, my king… Sam, I love you!” Her moans echoed in the room.
She kissed me and said, “My turn.” She pulled off my jeans and underwear. Seeing my 7-inch dick, she gave a naughty smile. She grabbed it and said, “You’ve grown so big. Were you craving me? I was craving you too, my prince.” She started sucking my dick, her warm tongue swirling around it like it was a lollipop. I was in heaven. My dick exploded, and she drank every drop. She said, “Your cum tastes so good, my Sam king.”
We moved to a 69 position. I ate her pussy while she sucked my dick. Her pussy got wet again, and my dick was rock-hard. I climbed on top and kissed her. She closed her eyes, maybe bracing for my dick’s impact. Without wasting time, I thrust hard. She screamed, “Ahh!” I sealed her lips with mine. Only half my dick went in. I thrust again, harder. She cried and tried to push me off, but my full dick was now buried in her tight pussy. It felt like it was trapped in her warmth.
I kissed her to calm her down. When she relaxed, I started thrusting slowly. Her pussy’s heat and tightness were pure bliss. She started enjoying it, moaning, “Ahh… ahh… faster… harder!” I went full throttle, fucking her with all my strength. She was loving it, and so was I. She screamed, “Rip my pussy apart… it’s yours, my Sam king… this pussy made you suffer… fuck it… destroy it… ahh… uff!”
I fucked her in different positions—missionary, then doggy style, pounding her from behind. Her round ass jiggled with every thrust. It hurt her, but she loved it, screaming, “Ahh… harder… fuck me… tear me apart!” I fucked her slowly and deliberately, so I didn’t cum too soon. She came multiple times, her pussy juice soaking the bed. When she was exhausted, I came inside her pussy. The pleasure was indescribable. We collapsed, clinging to each other, and fell asleep.
In the morning, we were drained. But today, she was leaving for abroad. We fucked again. Her pussy was still tight, and she moaned with every thrust. We kissed so much our lips swelled. Then I drove her to the airport. She was about to leave, and I was heartbroken. She saw my face, came back, and hugged me tightly. She gave me a long, deep French kiss. People at the airport stared, some whistling. After 10 minutes, we stopped. She said, “I love you, Sam.” I said, “I love you, Shruti.” She smiled and walked away.