My name’s Rehana, a 26-year-old slut who lives for sex. I crash in a swanky high-rise flat by the Mumbai coast, working days at a big-shot multinational company. But when the sun goes down, my nights are all about quenching the fire in my pussy.
I’ve got a body that makes guys’ jaws drop. Fair skin, a tiny waist, thick juicy thighs, and big, ripe tits that bounce with every step. My eyes are dark and sultry, the kind that can make a man hard with one glance. My ass juts out just right, and when I walk, my tits sway up front while my curvy ass shakes in the back. I catch every guy on the street staring, their hands itching to rub their cocks. I can tell in a second which dude’s gonna jerk off thinking of me later.
I dress to make sure no one can look away. Used to rock tight jeans and crop tops, but now I’m all about sarees. They hug my curves like a second skin, showing off my deep navel and the swell of my tits. When I let the saree slip just a bit, guys lose their damn minds. I’m proud of my tits, my ass, and especially my pussy—though that’s a treat only a lucky few get to see.
I’ve been hooked on cock since I was a teen. Got my first fuck at 19 and never looked back. One dick after another, I kept riding and never stopped. I carry all the fuck gear in my purse—condoms, lube, you name it. Never know when I’ll run into a thick cock begging for my pussy. My hunger for dick is out of control now. Day and night, all I think about is cock—hard, throbbing, and ready to fill me up.
To get more dick, I came up with a killer plan. I figured if I posed as a newlywed bride, guys would flock to me. Men these days are obsessed with fucking other guys’ wives, especially the 30- and 40-somethings dying for fresh pussy. In a city like Mumbai, wife-swapping is huge. There are clubs, group chats, secret meetups where wives get traded like candy. Guys know a well-fucked pussy is the best—those chicks fuck back hard, sucking and grabbing cock like pros.
So I decided to become a fake wife. If I’m someone’s bride, every guy’s my brother-in-law, right? And nothing’s hotter than a sister-in-law getting fucked by her horny devars. The next day, I dolled up like a bride—red bindi on my forehead, a mangalsutra around my neck, red bangles jangling on my wrists, and a silky saree with a tight blouse that barely held my tits. The blouse was so snug my nipples poked through, and I tied the saree low to show off my curvy waist. I looked like a bride straight out of a wet dream, ready to make every cock stand at attention.
First day out, I turned heads left and right. Guys stared like they’d never seen a woman before. My swaying hips and bouncing tits had them hooked. I walked with extra swagger, like I was daring them to try me.
There’s this guy in my building, Ritesh. Young, ripped, fair-skinned, and hot as hell. He’d eye me every day, his gaze glued to my tits and ass. One day, I decided he was next. I slipped on high heels and, that evening, pretended to trip right in front of him. My saree slipped, flashing my deep cleavage.
Ritesh rushed over, grabbing my arm. “Ma’am, you okay? Hurt yourself?” I smirked, brushing against him. “Nah, I’m fine. Thanks… I’ll just head home.” I walked away, swaying my ass, knowing his eyes were burning holes in me.
After that, Ritesh was everywhere—morning, evening, always watching. One day, I “tripped” again, harder this time. He helped me to the elevator. I purred, “Since you’re here, why not come up to my place?” His eyes lit up. He followed me in.
I sat him on the couch and said, “Gimme a sec, I’ll change.” I stripped off my saree, blouse, bra, and panties, slipping into just a petticoat pulled up over my tits, with a thin shawl draped loosely. My tits were practically spilling out. I plopped down across from him, letting the shawl slip.
He asked, “You live alone?” I teased, “Nah, I got you, don’t I?” He laughed. I went on, “My husband’s in Nagpur. He comes and goes. I visit him too.” He said, “I’m solo here. Name’s Ritesh.”
I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured us both a glass. “Join me, Ritesh?” “Hell yeah, ma’am!” he said. I snapped, “I ain’t no ma’am, I’m your bhabhi. Call me that, got it?” He grinned, “Fuck yeah, bhabhi. Wanted to call you that, but I was chickening out.” I leaned in, “You’re a man, Ritesh. No balls to make a move? If I were you, I’d be all over my bhabhi by now. Show some fucking guts.”
We downed our drinks, and I kept “accidentally” flashing my tits. His eyes were locked on them. He mumbled, “You’re fucking gorgeous, bhabhi.” I shot back, “None of that ‘you’ shit. Say ‘bhabhi,’ like I say ‘Ritesh, you sexy fucker.’ Be a man and talk dirty.” He nodded, “Fuck yeah, bhabhi, I’m a man.” I slurred, drunk and horny, “A man, huh? Where’s your fucking manhood? Show me that cock, you bastard!”
I lunged at his pants, yanked down his boxers, and pulled out his cock. It was thick and hard as steel. I smirked, “Well, fuck me, here’s your manhood, you son of a bitch. This is a real cock!”
The second I grabbed it, his dick twitched, rock-hard. I tossed my shawl, letting my bare tits bounce free. His cock throbbed even harder. “Holy shit, Ritesh, what a fucking beast of a dick!” He groped my tits, groaning, “Your tits are fucking huge, bhabhi!” I laughed, “Bhabhi’s tits are always huge, you fucker!”
He slid his hand under my petticoat, rubbing my wet pussy. I leaned in and licked his cock, savoring its heat. It was so thick I could barely fit it in my mouth. I sucked the tip, tongued his balls, then deep-throated him. He fingered my pussy, making me moan.
I dragged him to the bed, laid him flat, and straddled his face, shoving my pussy against his mouth while I sucked his cock. He ate me out like a starving man, his tongue flicking my clit. I screamed, “Eat that pussy, you bastard! Tear it apart!”
I was so fucking horny I needed his cock inside me. “Fuck me now, Ritesh!” He flipped me over, climbed on top, and rammed his fat cock into my pussy. I screamed, “Fuck, I’m dying! Your cock’s so fucking thick!”
He pounded me hard, my tits bouncing with every thrust. He spread my legs wide, slamming deeper. My pussy was soaked, his cock sliding in and out with wet slaps. I yelled, “Fuck me harder, you bastard! Rip my pussy apart!”
He flipped me onto my knees, rubbing his cock against my ass. I snapped, “Not my ass, fuck my pussy, you fuck!” He plunged back into my cunt, gripping my hips and pounding so hard my ass jiggled. He slapped my ass, making me cum twice. Finally, he pulled out and sprayed his load all over my tits.
We collapsed, panting. I grinned, “Fucking hell, Ritesh, your cock’s a goddamn masterpiece.” He gasped, “Bhabhi, your pussy’s fucking paradise.”
That lit a fire in me. I wanted every cock I could get. Next up was Khurana Uncle, a 50-something neighbor. Rich, suave, and handsome, he always stared at my tits and ass. I knew his cock was aching for me.
One Sunday, the doorbell rang. I’d just showered, wearing only a petticoat pulled up over my tits, my thighs and knees bare. I opened the door to find Khurana Uncle. I invited him in with a flirty smile and sat him down.
“What’s up, Uncle?” I asked, leaning forward so my tits strained against the petticoat. He said, “Nothing special, just felt like seeing you.” “Nice move,” I purred. “Lemme change real quick.” He stopped me, “You look hot as hell like this. Stay put, ma’am.”
I went anyway, slipping into a tight gown that hugged my tits and ass. His eyes were glued to my curves. I asked, “You live alone?” “Yeah,” he said. “Son’s in Delhi. Wife passed away.” “Damn, that’s rough. All alone, huh?” “Yup, just me, ma’am.” “Cut the ma’am shit. Call me Rehana.”
I offered, “What’ll you have, cold or hot?” He smirked, “I like both, Rehana. Whatever you’re feeling.” His tone was hungry. I thought, This fucker’s dying for pussy. I decided to grab his cock today.
“Whiskey work for you, Uncle?” I asked. “Fuck yeah,” he said, lighting up. “Whiskey’s my life.”
I brought the bottle, poured us both a glass, and we toasted. I wanted to push him. “So, Uncle, no wife—what do you do for fun?” He grinned, “Not much. Just stew in my own misery, drink, and crash.” I pressed, “C’mon, you gotta do something. Life ain’t that fucking boring.” He hesitated, “You won’t get mad if I’m real?” “Hell no, I’m a slut for the truth. Spill it.” He laughed, “I jerk off. Beat my cock raw.”
I leaned in, whispering, “No more jerking off, you bastard. From now on, I’m handling that cock.” His face lit up like Christmas. I slid my hand onto his crotch, feeling his hard dick through his pants.
He pulled me close, my tits smashing against his chest. I ripped at his clothes, and he groped my tits. My gown’s tie came loose, baring my boobs. I yanked off his pants and boxers, grabbing his cock. “Holy fuck, what a beast of a dick, you son of a bitch! So fucking thick!” I threw in some dirty talk to get him riled up.
He stripped naked, and I did too. I pushed him onto the bed, climbed on top, and shoved my pussy in his face while I sucked his cock. He licked my cunt like a pro, tongue-fucking me deep. I moaned, “Suck that pussy, you fucker!”
I teased, “How many chicks’ pussies you eaten this year, Uncle?” He growled, “Not chicks—other guys’ wives. Four wives’ pussies in the last year. Came here to taste yours, and fuck, I’m in heaven.” I snapped, “My turn ain’t done, you bastard. Your cock’s gotta fuck my pussy raw before I’m satisfied!”
He flipped me, tore off my gown, and slammed his thick cock into my cunt. I screamed, “Fuck, it’s huge!” He fucked me hard, his dick hitting deep. My tits bounced like crazy, and I moaned, “Pound that pussy, you fuck! Tear it up!”
He bent me over, lifted my ass, and fucked me doggy-style. My pussy was dripping, his cock making wet smacks. He spanked my ass, growling, “What a fucking ass, Rehana! Wanna fuck it?” “Fuck my pussy first, you bastard!” I yelled.
He sat on the couch, put my legs on his shoulders, and fucked me so hard I came three times. He shot his load on my tits, and I licked his cock clean. “Goddamn, Uncle, your dick’s better than any young stud’s,” I panted.
After that, I fucked every guy who thought I was someone’s wife. Then I met Vishal, a 25-year-old hottie—tall, fair, and ripped. His cock was so good I fucked him over and over.
One day, Vishal said, “Rehana, I wanna take you to a wife-swapping club as my wife. You in?” “Fuck yeah,” I said. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. Club’s open. We’ll go at night.”
We hit the club, entering a huge hall where a naked chick sat on a chair. She asked Vishal, “You cool with everyone fucking your wife in there?” He grinned, “Hell no, I’m hyped for it.” She turned to me, “Rehana, your husband’s gonna fuck everyone’s wives. You good?” I laughed, “Fuck yeah. I wanna see how my man fucks other bitches.”
She laid down the rules: “Vishal, don’t touch your wife. Rehana, stay off Vishal. Touch each other, you’re out. Strip naked and go in.”
Inside was a fucking orgy. Cocks, pussies, tits, and asses everywhere. I was in cock heaven. I grabbed one dick, sucked another, played with balls, kissed tips. Guys squeezed my tits, fingered my pussy, spanked my ass.
One guy with a massive cock pinned me to the wall and shoved it in my pussy. I screamed, “Fuck, it’s huge!” He lifted my legs and fucked me against the wall. Another guy stuffed his cock in my mouth. I was getting double-fucked and loving it.
Someone laid me on a table and fucked my ass. I yelled, “Slow down, you fuck, you’ll rip my ass!” But he pounded away. My pussy and ass were getting hammered at once. I fucked so many guys I lost count, cumming over and over.
Wife-swapping was the best fucking thing ever. My pussy and ass were so sore I could barely walk.
A few days later, my cousin Ramaiya showed up with her husband. She saw me and gasped, “Rehana, you got married?” I smirked, “Yeah, tied the knot.” She teased, “So, how’s your man’s cock?” I shot back, “Same as your husband’s, bitch.”
Ramaiya laughed, “You sly slut! Gotta see his cock to believe it?” I said, “Show me your man’s dick, and I’ll hook you up with mine.” She grinned, “I’m seeing your husband’s cock tonight.” “Deal, you crazy bitch,” I said.
That night, I called Vishal over. Ramaiya was thrilled to meet him. I’d already met her husband. We all drank, then I handed Vishal’s cock to Ramaiya, and she gave me her husband’s.
Vishal fucked Ramaiya right in front of me. He laid her on the couch, spread her legs, and slammed his cock into her pussy. She screamed, “Fuck, Vishal, your cock’s tearing me apart!” He fucked her doggy-style, slapping her ass, making her moan.
Her husband bent me over the table, ramming his long cock into my pussy. It hit so deep I saw stars. I yelled, “Fuck me, you bastard! Rip my pussy!” He fucked me on a chair, sucking my tits, making me cum hard.
Ramaiya and I fucked each other’s men all night, swapping back and forth.
Next morning at breakfast, her husband said, “Rehana, you’re fucking stunning. Best sister-in-law ever.” I grinned, “Listen, you fucker, I’m a slut. Vishal’s my fake husband. I pose as a wife to get fucked. Ain’t married yet.”
Vishal laughed, “Doesn’t matter, Ramaiya, you fuck like a goddess.” Ramaiya smirked, “Fuck you, I’m a fake wife too. This guy’s my boyfriend, not my husband. I play wife to get cock. Been fucking every big dick I find.”
I laughed, “See, you fucks? The shit sluts like us do for cock these days.”