Sneha stepped forward, her voice firm yet laced with a teasing edge, "We've created a schedule for the week. Our demand is that you have to fuck each of us according to that schedule. Monday is Nisha, Tuesday is Riya, Wednesday is Kavya, Thursday is me, and Friday is Ananya."
Nisha, her dark eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint, added, "And if you don't do what we say, you know what we'll do." Her tone carried a subtle threat, a hint of leverage they held over him, though the details remained unspoken.
Abir leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face as he processed their audacious demand. "Okay," he said, his voice steady. "Since today is Monday, it's your turn, Nisha?"
Nisha stepped closer, her hips swaying with confidence, her black top clinging to her curvy frame. "Yes," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "But not here. I want you to fuck me in the school's old auditorium." The abandoned space, rarely used since the new hall was built, offered a secluded yet thrilling venue, its dusty stage and faded curtains promising a raw, uninhibited encounter.
Abir nodded, rising to follow her, his pulse quickening with anticipation. Riya, Kavya, Sneha, and Ananya trailed behind, their footsteps echoing in the hallway. He glanced back, frowning. "Why are you coming with us?"
Ananya, her voice soft but firm, replied, "We will watch you two." The idea of an audience added a layer of intensity, their gazes promising to heighten the stakes.
They arrived at the old auditorium, its heavy wooden doors creaking as Nisha pushed them open. The interior was a cavern of shadows, the stage illuminated by slivers of sunlight piercing through cracked windows, dust motes dancing in the air. Faded red curtains hung limply, and rows of worn seats stretched into the darkness, creating an intimate yet eerie atmosphere. Nisha led Abir to the center of the stage, her movements deliberate as she turned to face him, her eyes burning with desire.
Abir closed the distance, his hands finding her waist, pulling her against him with a possessive grip. His white shirt, partially unbuttoned, revealed a sweat-slicked chest, the sleeves rolled up to expose his sinewy forearms. Nisha's black top hugged her full breasts, the fabric stretching as her chest rose with each breath, her hips swaying in tight jeans that accentuated her curves. Without a word, she began undressing, peeling off her top to reveal a lacy red bra, her breasts spilling slightly over the edges, then sliding her jeans down to expose matching red panties. Abir shed his shirt and pants, leaving his underwear straining against his growing arousal, the audience of four women settling into the front row, their eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.
Nisha stepped closer, her hands roaming his chest, squeezing his muscles with eager fingers as she kissed him deeply, her tongue exploring his mouth with a hungry passion that made him groan. Abir responded, his hands sliding to her breasts, squeezing them firmly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he rolled her nipples through the bra, eliciting a moan—"Mmm, Abir…"—from her lips. He unhooked the bra, letting it fall, her full breasts bouncing free, and he squeezed them again, harder, his thumbs circling the hardened peaks until she gasped, "Ohh, yes!"
Their kisses deepened, a passionate dance of tongues and lips, as Abir's hands moved to her butt, squeezing the firm curves through her panties, pulling her closer until she felt his hardness pressing against her. Nisha moaned into his mouth, her hands sliding down to tug his underwear off, freeing his erect manhood. She stroked him briefly, her fingers teasing the length, before guiding him toward her, her panties sliding down with a swift motion.
Abir lifted Nisha onto the edge of the stage, her legs spreading wide as he entered her with a deep, passionate thrust, her scream—"Ahh, Abir!"—echoing through the auditorium. His hands squeezed her breasts, the soft mounds jiggling with each forceful stroke, her moans rising—"Ohh, harder!"—her eyes rolling back as her first breaking point hit, her inner walls clenching around him, her juices coating his length. The audience watched, their breaths audible, adding to the thrill.
He pulled her to the curtains, pressing her against the faded fabric, thrusting with a slow, grinding rhythm, each deep plunge a sensual invasion that made her moan loudly—"Mmm, Abir, yes!"—her eyes fluttering as her second breaking point crashed through, her breasts bouncing against the curtain, her hands clawing at the material. Abir's hands squeezed her butt, lifting her slightly to deepen the angle, her screams—"Ahhh, don't stop!"—filling the space.
They moved to the front row, Nisha straddling him as he sat in a creaky seat, her hips rocking with passionate force, each downward thrust drawing a moan—"Ohh, Abir!"—her eyes rolling back as her third breaking point hit, her breasts bouncing wildly, his hands squeezing them with bruising intensity. The audience leaned closer, their gasps mingling with Nisha's cries.
Abir laid her on the dusty stage floor, entering from above with savage depth, each fast stroke a punishing claim that made her scream—"Ahhh, yes!"—her eyes rolling back as her fourth breaking point erupted, her body arching, her breasts heaving with each thrust. His hands roamed, squeezing her butt, pulling her hips up to meet his relentless rhythm.
He lifted her against the curtain, her legs wrapped around him, thrusting with passionate intensity, each deep stroke a sensual collision that made her moan loudly—"Mmm, Abir, deeper!"—her eyes rolling back as her fifth breaking point hit, her breasts pressed against his chest, his hands squeezing her butt with firm grips.
Behind the curtain, Abir bound her wrists with a loose rope from a prop box, thrusting from behind with grinding force, each plunge a brutal claim that made her scream—"Ohh, Abir, take me!"—her eyes rolling back as her sixth breaking point shuddered through her, her breasts bouncing, his hands squeezing them roughly.
The encounter stretched on, the auditorium a stage for their passion, the audience's watchful eyes fueling the fire. Abir's thrusts grew more intense, his hands squeezing Nisha's breasts with each deep plunge, her nipples hard under his fingers, her seventh breaking point a hoarse scream—"Ahhh, Abir!"—her body trembling. He moved to her butt, squeezing the firm flesh, pulling her back to meet his thrusts, her moans rising—"Mmm, more!"—her eighth breaking point a desperate wail, her eyes lost in ecstasy.
Abir's climax roared through him, a guttural groan as he pulled out, his body spent. Nisha collapsed onto the stage, her breath ragged, her body a map of sweat and red marks, the audience clapping softly, their expressions a mix of awe and desire. Riya stepped forward, her voice low. "Well done, Abir. Tomorrow's my turn."