Character Introductions:
- Hayat: A 19-year-old stunner from Godhra, with fair skin, long black hair, and a killer 34-28-36 figure. Her full breasts and curvy hips turn heads, but her insatiable sexual appetite defines her. Average in studies, she’s a master at seducing men with her charm.
- Abdul: Hayat’s first boyfriend, 21, lean, dark-skinned, and a mechanic at a local garage. Smooth talker but a total flop in bed.
- Aslam: Hayat’s cousin, 20, muscular with a light beard, lives in the neighboring building. Runs a small grocery shop and is a regular at Hayat’s house.
- Sohail: 19, Hayat’s college mate, shy, bespectacled, and a nerd. Great at academics but clueless with women.
- Riyaz (Petty): 20, a stylish college heartthrob. Flirty, medium-built, dark-skinned, and always dressed to impress.
- Kabir: 21, college senior, fair, muscular, and works at a cyber café. A pro at charming women.
- Zeeshan: Hayat’s current boyfriend, 22, tall, smart, and serious. Works as a salesman at a mobile shop.
Hey everyone, I’m Hayat, a 19-year-old from the narrow alleys of Godhra, where everyone knows everyone’s business. I’m fair, with long black hair, a tight waist, and a body that makes guys drool—full tits, curvy ass, the works. But my real story isn’t about my looks; it’s about the fire in my pussy that no single cock can put out. I change boyfriends every year because one guy just doesn’t cut it for my raging desires. This is the story of how my hunger for sex earned me the label of a slut.
First up was Abdul, my initial boyfriend. He was 21, skinny, dark, and worked as a mechanic. His dirty talk was hot, but in bed, he was a fucking letdown. We’d sneak to a quiet park in Godhra. He’d squeeze my tits lightly, kiss me a bit, and then pass out. “Hayat, you’re so hot,” he’d say, but his limp dick couldn’t handle my needs. “Abdul, you’re fucking useless. Can’t even get it up properly,” I taunted him one day. His face fell, and I dumped his sorry ass.
Next came Aslam, my cousin. He was 20, built like a tank, with a scruffy beard, living in the building next door. He ran a small grocery shop and was always at my place. My parents even started talking marriage. “Aslam’s a good guy, Hayat,” Mom would say. But I didn’t want a husband; I wanted his body. At night, Mom and Dad slept upstairs, while me, my younger brother, and Aslam crashed on the floor downstairs, with my brother between us.
One night, when everyone was asleep, Aslam slid closer. His hand grazed my tit. My breath hitched, and my pussy started getting wet. “Hayat, you asleep?” he whispered. I stayed quiet, letting him think I was out. He squeezed my tits harder. “Ohh… Aslam, what the fuck are you doing?” I murmured softly. “Just making you feel good,” he chuckled. He slipped his hand into my salwar, rubbing my soaking pussy. “Fuck, your cunt’s dripping,” he said. I was on fire. He kissed my lips, and I kissed back, his fingers sliding in and out of my pussy. “Ahh… Aslam, harder…” I moaned softly.
Every night, he’d do the same—squeeze my tits, finger my pussy, then sleep. But he never fucked me. “Aslam, all you do is finger me? Your cock’s fucking useless, you coward!” I snapped one night. He shut up, and I kicked him to the curb.
My hunger grew worse. Then I hooked up with Sohail, a 19-year-old college nerd. Shy, glasses, great at studies, but a total loser with girls. We’d meet in the college garden. He’d hold my hand, give a quick peck, and that was it. “Hayat, I’m scared,” he’d stammer. “Sohail, you’re such a fucking kid. My pussy needs a real man, not a spineless nerd,” I mocked. He blushed and I dumped him.
Then came Riyaz, or Petty, a 20-year-old college stud. Flirty, stylish, and a chick magnet. During a college picnic to a hill station, he pulled me to a secluded spot and kissed me hard. His hands mauled my tits. “Hayat, your boobs are fucking perfect,” he said. I was wet as hell. He slid his hand into my salwar, rubbing my pussy. “Ohh… Petty, keep going…” I moaned. But he didn’t fuck me. “What, that’s it? Your dick’s too weak for my pussy?” I sneered. On the ride back, he fingered me in the car, but it wasn’t enough. My cunt needed a real cock. I dropped him too.
Then entered Kabir, 21, a college senior. Fair, ripped, and a cyber café worker who could charm the panties off anyone. I’d visit his café daily. He’d take me to a private cabin, grope my tits, kiss me, and finger my pussy. “Hayat, your body’s pure fire,” he’d say. I loved it, but a cabin wasn’t the place for a proper fuck.
One day, he called. “Hayat, skip the café. Come to my place. I’m alone.” My pussy throbbed at the thought. I got ready and reached his place by 3 PM. His house was small but neat. He led me to his bedroom, offered me tea, and sat close on the couch.
He grabbed my face and kissed me deep, our tongues wrestling. “Hayat, I’m gonna wreck your pussy today,” he growled. “Kabir, let’s see if your cock’s better than those useless fuckers,” I shot back, taunting Abdul and Aslam. He squeezed my tits hard. “Ohh… Kabir, crush my fucking boobs…” I moaned. He ripped off my kurta and salwar, leaving me in my bra and panties. He stripped down to his boxers. “Hayat, your body’s a fucking wet dream,” he said, tearing off my bra and panties.
He dove between my legs, licking my pussy like a starved man. His tongue fucked my cunt, swirling inside. “Ohh… Kabir, suck my pussy harder… fuck…” I screamed. “Your cunt tastes so fucking good,” he mumbled. I was blushing but loving it. He slid two fingers into my dripping pussy, pumping fast. “Uhh… Kabir, shove your cock in me… my pussy’s begging…” I pleaded.
He pulled out his cock—seven inches long, three inches thick. “Look at this, Hayat. It’s gonna destroy your cunt,” he smirked. “Better than those limp-dicked losers,” I said, mocking my exes. He rubbed his cock on my lips. I sucked it greedily. “Fuck… Hayat, you suck like a pro slut,” he groaned. “Kabir, I’m a fucking expert at this. Now fuck me,” I demanded.
He positioned his cock at my pussy and thrust hard. “Ahh… Kabir, slow down… you’ll rip my pussy…” I screamed. He covered my mouth and slammed again. “Thap… thap… thap…” echoed as he pounded me. “Hayat, your cunt’s so fucking tight,” he growled. “Ohh… Kabir, fuck me… tear my pussy apart… not like those pathetic bastards…” I yelled, humiliating my exes. His cock slammed into me, the “slap… slap… slap…” of our bodies mixing with my moans—“Uhh… ohh…”—filling the room.
He fucked me for twenty minutes, my pussy aching and pulsing with pleasure. “Kabir, you’re a real man… not like those fucking wannabes,” I praised. As he was about to cum, he shoved his cock in my mouth. “Swallow my load, Hayat,” he ordered. I sucked every drop. “Kabir, you fucked my pussy to heaven,” I laughed. We dressed, and I went home.
Later, Kabir moved away for work, and we stopped meeting. Now I’m with Zeeshan, 22, who fucks me senseless and keeps my pussy satisfied.
Guys, what did you think of my story? Do you crave new cock like me? Drop your thoughts in the comments!