I never thought my life in this quiet village would unravel like this, but there I was, tangled in the arms of Raju, the rugged farmer from the next field over. We'd been sneaking around for weeks, ever since I caught a glimpse of him bathing in the river—his enormous cock swinging heavy between his legs, thick and veined like nothing I'd ever seen. My husband, Mohan, was always buried in his work at the oil mill, coming home exhausted, smelling of oil and barely touching me. I craved that fire, that fullness, and Raju gave it to me.
That afternoon, in the dim shed behind our house, I was bent over a hay, my sari hiked up around my waist, panties long discarded. Raju's massive cock plunged into my pussy from behind, stretching me wide with every brutal thrust. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me back onto him as he slammed in deep, his balls slapping against my clit.