Atiya stepped into Kazim’s room, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. The air was thick with the scent of her perfume—something floral and intoxicating, the kind that made his head spin. She closed the door behind her, the lock clicking into place with a finality that sent a shiver down his spine. Kazim had always admired her confidence, how she carried herself like a queen, even when she wasn’t trying. But today, there was something different in her gaze—something smoldering, something hungry.
She turned to him, her full lips curling into a slow, knowing smile. The way her white blouse hugged her curves, the way her skirt rode up just enough to tease the tops of her thighs—it was enough to make his pulse race. Atiya had always been stunning, but today, she looked like a fantasy he’d never dared to dream of.
“Kazim,” she purred, her voice dropping an octave. “I need to talk to you about something important.”
He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the arms of his wheelchair. “Same here,” he admitted, his voice rough. “But… I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”
Her eyes flicked to the door, then back to him, her smile deepening. “Oh, I think I know exactly what you mean.” Without another word, she crossed the room in three strides, bent down, and scooped him up like he weighed nothing. The warmth of her body pressed against him, her tits—those fucking glorious tits—digging into his chest as she cradled him against her. He could feel the heat radiating off her, could smell the sweet musk of her skin mixed with that damn perfume.
Atiya carried him effortlessly into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind her with her foot. She set him down on the bed, her hands lingering on his waist before she straightened up, her chest heaving with each breath. The way she looked at him—like he was the only man in the world—sent a jolt of desire straight to his dick.
Kazim’s heart pounded as she locked the door, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Atiya turned back to him, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt as she bit her lower lip. “Tell me the truth, Kazim,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “How many girls have you fucked? How many have you deflowered?”
His face burned. He looked down, shame creeping into his chest. “None,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never even seen a girl naked in real life. Just… pictures. Videos.” He let out a bitter laugh. “According to them, I’m too short. Too broken. I shouldn’t even think about this shit.”
Atiya’s expression softened. She stepped closer, her thighs pressing against the edge of the bed. “Hey.” Her fingers tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Look at me.”
He did, and the way her eyes burned into his—like she could see straight into his soul—made his breath catch.
“I love you,” she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I’m not gonna let some bullshit standards stop me from giving you what you need.”
Before he could respond, she straddled his lap, her skirt riding up just enough to tease him. Her hands slid up his chest, her thumbs brushing over his nipples through his shirt. “You’ve been craving this, haven’t you?” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “Wanting to feel something real instead of just your own damn hand?”
He groaned, his hips jerking up instinctively. “Fuck, Atiya—”
She cut him off with a sharp tug on his shirt, yanking it over his head. Her hands were everywhere—trailing down his chest, pinching his nipples, squeezing his pecs. “You’re so fucking perfect,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin. “And you deserve to feel good.”
Kazim’s dick was already straining against his pants, aching for her touch. Atiya’s fingers trailed lower, tracing the waistband of his jeans before popping the button open. She didn’t waste time—she reached in, wrapping her fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly.
“Fuck,” he gasped, his head falling back. Her grip was firm, her thumb swirling over the tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum already there.
Atiya leaned down, her tits pressing against his chest as she whispered in his ear, “You like that, don’t you? Like how I touch you?”
“Yes,” he hissed, his hips bucking up into her fist.
She chuckled darkly, her lips trailing down his neck, nipping at his collarbone. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”
With a sudden motion, she pushed him back onto the bed, pinning him down with her weight. Her skirt rode up further, and he could see the damp spot on her panties—just a hint of what was waiting for him. She ground down against his thigh, her pussy already soaking through the thin fabric.
“You want this, don’t you?” she teased, grinding harder. “Want to feel me ride you? Want to fuck me until neither of us can walk?”
Kazim’s breath came in ragged gasps. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Atiya grinned, her fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. She shimmied out of them, tossing them aside before climbing back onto him. This time, there was no barrier—just her bare pussy pressing against his cock, the heat of her making his eyes roll back.
“You ready for this, baby?” she purred, lining him up at her entrance.
He could only nod, his hands gripping her hips as she sank down onto him, taking him inch by inch. The tightness of her was unreal, her walls clenching around him as she bottom