Arnav's pov
The fashion show had been a roaring success. We all came back to our office after the event celebratingthe success. We were now in conference room. Khushi sat across from me, her black saree from thar night now swapped for a crisp white blouse and pencil skirt that hugged her ass just right. Our eyes met briefly, a spark of the heat we'd shared in my suite flashing between us—her pussy still clenching around my cock in my mind, her moans echoing. But we kept it professional, the unspoken love and lust simmering under the surface, unconfessed even after I'd filled her with my cum.
I have started something I am not even sure anyone would read. Now here we are. Me—still writing. You—still here. I’m not backed by fame or algorithms, just pure passion… and you. So if you’re reading this, thank you. Your support doesn’t just help—it builds this journey. And every share, every comment, every cheer? It’s another “Keep going.” And I will. For you to read. Comment your darkest desires to read in the story.
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