My name is Shivangi, the only child of my parents, raised with endless love and affection. That kind of indulgence can spoil a girl, and I was no exception. The freedom and adoration I got from my parents made me bold, maybe too bold. By the time I was 18, fresh into college, I fell hard for a guy. At that age, I was naive, and he took full advantage of my innocence.
While my friends were still figuring out their periods, I lost my virginity to that jerk. He fucked me twice and then dumped me, saying my body didn’t have the “spark” he wanted. Spark? He was after big tits and a thick ass, meaty thighs—things I didn’t have. I was a petite, slender girl, my body perfectly proportioned for my age and frame. But he discarded me like trash. I cried for days, drowning in tears. But once my pussy tasted cock, there was no going back.
By the time I settled into college, I had three boyfriends, each one a master fucker. Those years were a wild ride—two or three fucks a week were guaranteed. I had to get two abortions, but thankfully, no one found out. That young age, getting my pussy pounded regularly, it messed me up. I could barely survive the four or five days of my period when I couldn’t fuck.
When I started my B.A., my pussy was never empty. I was infamous across campus. Professors, canteen boys, even the security guards—they all drooled over my beauty. I knew they were obsessed with my tits, ass, pussy, and face. They didn’t love me; they just wanted to fuck me. And I played along, flirting to get what I wanted. But I only fucked my boyfriends. Still, my reputation spread far and wide, so when my parents started looking for a groom, three or four local proposals fell apart.
My family found a guy from out of town—a retired army officer’s son, Pratmesh, who worked in Canada. The wedding was grand, and my three boyfriends showed up. Dressed as a bride, I could almost hear them snickering, thinking about how this “pure” girl used to bounce on their cocks like a slut.
The wedding happened, and so did the wedding night. I faked pain, crying like my pussy was being torn apart for the first time. My in-laws were thrilled, thinking they got a virgin. We went on our honeymoon, and it was nonstop fucking—day and night, whenever we got the chance, Pratmesh pounded me. But something felt off. First, his cock was small, barely four or four-and-a-half inches. I was used to six or seven-inch monsters before marriage. Second, he came too fast—five to seven minutes, and he was done. My boyfriends could ram their rock-hard cocks into me for half an hour. Still, I encouraged Pratmesh, telling him to work on lasting longer. He tried, and eventually, he could fuck for 10-12 minutes. I told myself this was my life now—no more messing around, just my husband.
But that happiness didn’t last. Pratmesh had to return to Canada after his two-month leave. It took time to prepare my papers to join him, and one day, he boarded a plane and left. I was alone. I cried endlessly, feeling abandoned. The house was just me and my father-in-law. Pratmesh’s elder sister left for her in-laws soon after. The huge house felt like a ghost town.
I tried to pull myself together, focusing on household chores. The maid did most of the work, leaving me with nothing to do. My parents’ home was far, though I talked to them on the phone. My father-in-law spent most of his time in his room or out with friends. He suggested I make friends with the neighbors, but I preferred male company over female friends. I didn’t connect with anyone. Days dragged on, and I was bored out of my mind. How much TV can you watch?
One afternoon, I stood by the window, staring outside. My eyes caught something in the neighbor’s house. A man stood stark naked, his long, thick cock on full display. Then the neighbor’s daughter-in-law appeared, grabbed his cock, and started sucking it. “Slurp… slurp…” The sound echoed in my head. Two minutes later, they moved to the bed, out of sight. I stood there for half an hour, hoping to catch another glimpse, but nothing. I lay on my bed, that man’s massive cock haunting my thoughts. I wanted to march over, ring their bell, and beg, “Can I have your cock?” But that was impossible.
My restlessness grew. I sat at my dressing table, did my makeup, and stripped off my saree. In my blouse and petticoat, I admired my reflection—round, perky tits, flat stomach, juicy ass, thick thighs, fair skin, gorgeous face. My figure was flawless. Why was I so thirsty? I unhooked my blouse, let my petticoat fall, and stood in my pink bra and panties. I looked like a fucking goddess. I took off my bra and panties, my naked body enough to make any man’s cock rock hard. So why was I cock-starved? I told myself, “No, only my husband.” Lying on the bed, I rubbed my pussy. “Mmm… ahh…” I writhed, fingering myself until I came. Even after, I lay there, naked, unsatisfied.
That night, I fingered myself again, but it wasn’t enough. I came, but the hunger remained. I started using anything that could mimic a cock—cucumbers, carrots, eggplants, rolling pins. They filled my pussy, but the craving for kissing, licking, and real fucking? That stayed unfulfilled. My thirst only grew.
One evening, I took tea to my father-in-law’s room. The house had a relaxed vibe—I wore jeans, T-shirts, or capris without issue. That day, my T-shirt had a deep neckline. I usually stayed in my room, and he never came there, so I could’ve been naked without worry. But when I entered his room, he was asleep. His pajama bulged with his erect cock. I guessed it was at least seven or eight inches, thick as hell. My pussy tingled at the sight. I scolded myself, “Idiot, he’s your father-in-law. How could you?”
I placed the tea down, and he woke up. As I bent over, his eyes locked onto my cleavage through my T-shirt’s neckline. He stared for two seconds, then looked away. I left. That night, I dreamed of sucking his cock. I woke up, my pussy soaking wet.
I got up, stripped naked, and stood outside his room. His door was open. He was asleep. I peeked in, slid a finger into my pussy, and started masturbating. “Mmm… ahh…” As my arousal built, I stood fully in his doorway, fingering myself harder. I barely stifled my moans and came standing there. I wanted him to wake up, catch me, and fuck me senseless, but nothing happened.
The next night, I was back at his door, this time with an eggplant, fucking my pussy with it, imagining it was his cock. “Ahh… mmm…” I got bolder, entered his room, and lay on the carpet, sliding the eggplant in and out. Suddenly, the light flicked on. He was half-sitting on the bed, staring at me. I panicked, bolted, and left the eggplant behind. Shame hit me hard. What had I done? What would he think?
The next day, I couldn’t face him. I sent the maid with his tea and breakfast. But I had to serve lunch. He said, “Shivangi, I spoke to Pratmesh. He’ll take you to Canada soon. Be patient.” His words carried weight.
But my pussy’s fire wouldn’t die. The next night, I went to the drawing room, naked, and sat on the sofa, fucking myself with a radish. “Mmm… ahh… ohh…” My moans escaped. The light flicked on. He stood there. “Shivangi, what are you doing? Are you that desperate?” I broke down, collapsing on the floor, sobbing. “Papa, I can’t take it. I’ve tried, but I’ll die.”
He came to me, gently draped a shawl over my naked body. I clung to his shoulder, crying. He comforted me, “It’s okay, my child. Sometimes we lose control. Don’t worry, I’m here. It’ll be fine.” His words soothed me, but my desire raged. I grabbed his cock through his pajama. “Papa, I need this.”
He froze. “Shivangi, what are you doing?” I ignored him, consumed by lust, and yanked his pajama string. His thick, black, eight-inch cock sprang free—he wasn’t wearing underwear. I dropped to my knees, grabbed his cock, and shoved it in my mouth. “Mmm…” The familiar taste drove me wild. I sucked hard, “Slurp… slurp…” He tried to pull back, but I held his cock tight. It hardened into a steel rod.
I threw off the shawl and pushed him onto the sofa. “Papa, fuck me! Put out my pussy’s fire!” I ripped open his shirt, ran my hands over his hairy chest, and pinched his nipples. “Ahh… uff… sss…” he moaned, fully aroused. I climbed into his lap, positioned his cock at my pussy, and slid it in. “Ohh… so fucking thick…” I gasped.
He grabbed my face, kissing me deeply. “Shivangi, your pussy’s burning! Why are you so fucking hot?” I sucked his tongue, my lips locked with his. “Papa, love me, fuck my pussy!” He growled, “Wait, you slut! I’ll quench your cunt’s fire!” He pushed me onto the carpet and slammed his entire cock into me in one thrust. “AHH!” I screamed. “Thud… thud…” The sound of his thrusts filled the room.
He pulled back and rammed in again, his cock hitting my deepest walls. “Papa, harder! Tear my pussy apart!” I begged. He grabbed my tits, squeezing them like lemons. “Ohh… Papa, easy! It hurts!” I yelped. He smirked, “No going easy now. You woke my beast. I’ll fuck your cunt to pieces!” His thrusts were relentless, shaking my body. “Thud… thud… ahh… mmm…” I moaned as he sucked my lips and mauled my tits. “Shivangi, your pussy’s so tight! You’d drive any man insane!” I gasped, “Papa, your cock’s a fucking rock. Pratmesh’s is nothing compared to this!”
He ordered, “Get on your knees, bitch!” I flipped into doggy style. He slapped my ass hard, “Smack… smack…” and shoved his cock into my pussy from behind. “Thud… thud…” “Ohh… Papa, spank me! Make my ass red!” I screamed. He growled, “I saw the slut in your eyes from day one. Never thought you’d beg for my cock.”
I rocked my hips, “Papa, I couldn’t last a day. Since Pratmesh left, I’ve fingered my pussy, fucked it with eggplants, radishes. But your cock… ohh… it’s fucking heaven!” He said, “You don’t need anything else now. My cock’s always ready for you!”
He flipped me over, climbed on top, and pounded my pussy while squeezing my tits. “Thud… thud… ahh… mmm…” I begged, “Papa, I’m close! Let me lie flat.” He pulled back, I lay on my back, and he mounted me again. I wrapped my arms around him, legs locked around his waist. “Papa, suck my lips! Squeeze my tits! Fuck me harder! Ohh… pound me!” I screamed. “Thud… thud… ahh… mmm…” I came, clinging to him like glue.
As I calmed down, he kept going. I ran my hands over his chest. “Papa, you’re such a stud. You’re not even close to cumming!” He laughed, “I take desi herbs, girl. I don’t cum that easy.” I smirked, “Fine, fuck me as long as you can. I can take it all night.” He grinned, “And I can fuck you all night.”
For the next 20 minutes, he fucked me senseless. “Thud… thud… ahh… mmm…” He rubbed my clit, sucked my tits, and slapped my ass. “Shivangi, your pussy’s pure cream!” I moaned, “Papa, your cock’s the king of my cunt!” Finally, he came, flooding my pussy with his hot cum. I lay there, satisfied, staring at the ceiling, and fell asleep.
At 4 a.m., he fucked me again, pounding me for 50 minutes. “Thud… thud… ahh… mmm…” He sucked my lips, bit my tits. “Shivangi, you’re my queen!” I gasped, “Papa, you’re my man!” He carried me to my bed afterward.
I woke past 9 a.m., wearing my nightdress. In the bathroom, I saw bite marks and fingerprints on my tits, waist, and stomach. My father-in-law was in his room. The maid had made tea. I took it to him, but he acted like nothing happened.
Next month, Pratmesh is coming to take me to Canada. Now I’m torn—should I go? And one more thing: I’m pregnant. No doubt it’s Papa’s. Will Pratmesh accept it?
What did you think of my story? Should I go to Canada with Pratmesh or stay with my father-in-law? Share your thoughts in the comments!