The morning air in Kochi was thick with the scent of salt and damp earth, but inside Jancy’s bedroom, the only thing heavy was the tension. Farhan leaned against the doorframe, his sharp suit hugging his broad shoulders, eyes tracing the curve of her hips as she packed her weekend bag. The way her sari clung to her ass, the gold border teasing just above her knees, made his cock twitch. He’d been waiting for this trip for weeks—Munnar’s cool mist, the privacy of a secluded resort, and Jancy all to himself.
“You sure Rajesh won’t mind you being gone all weekend?” Farhan smirked, tossing a small, wrapped box onto the bed. Inside, a sleek male stroker and a bottle of single malt—enough to keep her husband distracted while his wife got properly fucked.
Jancy laughed, her fingers brushing his as she took the gift. “He’s used to it by now. Besides, he’s got his hobbies.” She let the word hang, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. Farhan knew exactly what she meant—the way Rajesh fumbled in bed, how he’d finish in two minutes flat, leaving her wet and unsatisfied. She deserved better. And Farhan intended to give it to her.
The drive to Munnar was a slow burn. Jancy’s bare feet propped on the dashboard, her sari pooled around her waist, exposing the lacy edge of her thong. Farhan’s hand crept up her thigh, fingers tracing the damp fabric. “You’re already soaked, *chechi*,” he murmured, his voice rough. “And we haven’t even started.”
By the time they reached the resort, the sun was dipping behind the tea plantations, painting the room in gold. Jancy didn’t wait. She kicked off her sandals, let her sari slip to the floor, and stood before him in nothing but black lace. Farhan’s breath hitched. Her tits were full, nipples hard beneath the flimsy fabric, her hips flaring into an ass that begged to be grabbed.
“On your knees,” she ordered, and Farhan obeyed.
He buried his face between her thighs, tongue dragging through the wet lace before hooking it aside. Her pussy was glistening, lips swollen with need. He lapped at her like a starving man, fingers digging into her ass as she rode his face, her moans filling the room. “Fuck, —just like that—” Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her thighs trembling as he sucked her clit, then plunged two fingers inside her. She came with a cry, her juices coating his chin.
But Farhan wasn’t done. He stood, unbuckling his belt, his cock springing free—thick, veiny, already leaking. Jancy licked her lips. “My turn.”
She dropped to her knees, wrapping her fingers around his shaft, her tongue swirling over the head before taking him deep. Farhan groaned, his hands gripping her hair as she bobbed, her throat opening for him. “Such a good cocksucker,” he growled, hips jerking as she hollowed her cheeks. Saliva dripped down his length, her free hand massaging his balls. He pulled her off with a pop. “Enough. I want that tight pussy.”
Jancy grinned, pushing him onto the bed. She straddled him, sinking onto his cock in one smooth motion. “Oh *fuck*—” Farhan hissed, his hands flying to her hips. She rolled her body, her tits bouncing as she rode him, her nails raking down his chest. “You like that, boss? Like how I take your big dick?”
Farhan flipped her onto her back, driving into her with deep, punishing strokes. The bed creaked, the headboard knocking against the wall. Jancy’s legs wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his ass. “Harder,” she gasped. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
He pulled out, flipping her onto her stomach. Her ass was perfect—round, jiggling slightly as he spread her cheeks. He spat on her hole, rubbing the moisture in before pressing the tip of his cock against her. “You want this too?”
Jancy moaned into the pillow. “Yes—please—”
Farhan pushed in slowly, her tightness squeezing him like a vice. “Fuck, you’re gripping me so good,” he groaned, bottoming out. He fucked her like that, one hand tangled in her hair, the other slapping her ass until it was pink. Jancy came again, her pussy clenching around nothing, her ass milking his cock. Farhan followed with a grunt, filling her up, his cum dripping down her thighs as he pulled out.
They collapsed onto the bed, sticky and breathless. Jancy traced idle patterns on his chest. “We should do this more often.”
Farhan chuckled, pulling her close. “Oh, chechi,” he murmured against her hair. “We will.”
Outside, the Munnar mist curled around the windows, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Somewhere back in Kochi, Rajesh was probably jerking off to his new toy, blissfully unaware that his wife was getting the fucking of her life—and planning her next one.