This is a future glimpse from the original plot: Chapter 9 of Sunidhi Chaudhary
Miss Astrology
The soft morning light filtered through the tall glass walls of the villa’s bedroom, painting long golden streaks across the tangled white sheets. Sunidhi lay motionless between two sleeping men almost twice her age, one on either side of her, their heavy presence framing her smaller form. Her milky skin looked luminous against the white fabric. Full, heavy breasts rose and fell with each slow breath, their generous curves narrowing sharply into a slim waist before flaring into soft, rounded hips. From her collarbone upward the skin remained mostly unmarked, save for one faint love bite half-hidden beneath the dark spill of her hair. Lower, across the pale swells of her breasts, a few scattered bite marks and reddish impressions lingered—quiet evidence of the night’s hunger. Between her slightly parted thighs, dried cum clung in thin, translucent streaks, some of it still halfway oozing from both her thoroughly used holes. Her pussy, fully shaved and perfectly neat without a single hair, showed a delicate brownish-pink hue that leaned more toward soft pink than brown—pretty and almost delicate against her Indian complexion.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly. For a few hazy seconds she simply lay there, body heavy, mind blank. Then the full weight of last night settled over her like a warm, sticky blanket.
She was still completely naked. The soft inner flesh of her thighs carried faint reddish impressions from the night’s rough handling. Behind, her asshole throbbed with a deep, swollen ache that made even the smallest shift of her hips feel raw. Last night she had lost her anal virginity—not to one man, but to both. First came Wasim, whose downward-curving length had entered her with a strange, insistent pressure; the thickest part, just beneath the head, had stretched her virgin ring widest, while the narrower middle had slid through with a deceptive ease before the base thickened again and locked her open. The unfamiliar curve had pressed relentlessly against her inner walls, forcing her body to yield in ways she had never imagined. Then Taushif had followed—his shaft straight, heavily veined, and nearly as formidable in girth—pushing into the already tender opening with a steady, unyielding thickness that scraped every sensitive nerve and claimed her completely. Now the swollen ring still pulsed with the memory of those two very different invasions, puffy and sore as if it could still feel the exact shapes that had taken her innocence. Between her legs her vagina pulsed with its own dull, insistent heat, swollen and sticky from hours of being stretched and filled, but it was the lingering burn in her newly opened asshole that dominated every breath. She shifted once and a soft, involuntary “aaah…” slipped from her lips—the sound half pain, half the vivid memory of being split open by both of them.
Taushif slept on her right, one heavy arm flung across his broad chest, his thick beard resting against the pillow; even in sleep his bulky frame looked powerful. Wasim lay on her left, stretched on his back, the sheet only half-covering the strong lines of his thighs and the solid weight of his body. Both were completely bare. Morning had already stirred them—both of their thick, dark cocks stood heavy and hard against their stomachs, still marked with dried white streaks and faint crusted patches along the skin and the dark hair at the base. Clear, shameless proof that she had milked them again and again through the night until nothing was left. Yet even after being drained so thoroughly, those heavy lengths remained rigid and eager, as if the men’s appetites were something deeper and more untamed—an almost animal readiness that no single night could satisfy.
Sunidhi’s eyes rested on those hard cocks for a long moment, taking in the dried white streaks and faint crusted patches that still clung to the dark skin and the hair at their bases. A slow heat crawled up her neck—not shame, not yet. She had done that. She had spent the entire night like a hungry slut, squeezing and sucking and riding until their cum dried on their own shafts. The memory felt rich, vivid, almost proud.
Carefully, she began to ease herself up from Wasim’s side, placing each limb with deliberate care so she would not touch or shift him. The moment she moved her weight, a swollen, heavy lump of pain pulsed right at the entrance of her asshole—thick and tender, as if the ring itself still remembered being forced open. Her pussy was sore too, though the ache there was milder, more a persistent burning that flared with every careful movement. As she rose, her eyes fell on his erect, curved cock. Her pussy fluttered at the memory of how that thick, uneven length had felt every time it pushed inside her. For a brief second the urge to lean down, take him into her mouth and wake him rose sharp and clear. She shoved the thought away and continued. Once her feet touched the floor she reached for the white sheet, drawing it up and holding it across her breasts. No one was watching, yet the modest gesture came without thought—completely natural.
She finally slipped off the bed and checked her phone, and the other feeling arrived.
Her boyfriend.
Nine missed calls.
Twenty-one messages.
The last one sent only forty minutes ago.
The guilt came then—sudden and sharp—twisting low in her stomach.
Sunidhi held the sheet tightly across her chest and moved toward the door in slow, careful steps. Each one sent a fresh pulse of pain through the swollen entrance of her asshole and the burning tenderness of her pussy. She bit her lip, muffling a soft “aaah,” then eased the door open and stepped out. The soft click of it shutting behind her was enough.
Wasim’s eyes opened. He turned his head toward the empty space beside him and knew at once it was her. For a moment he simply lay there, listening, his still-hard cock resting heavy against his stomach. Then he sat up slowly, rubbed a hand over his face, and rose from the bed without a sound. Barefoot and naked, he followed her out.
She walked into the living room. Huge open windows and transparent walls stretched across one side, offering a clear view of the beautiful green lawn outside. Scattered litter from the party Taushif and Wasim had thrown for tourists the night before still lay across the grass, but no one was in sight—the staff knew they were not expected until much later. Cool morning air touched the exposed skin of her shoulders and the tops of her breasts where the sheet had slipped. Sunidhi unlocked her phone with unsteady fingers and pressed call.
Mohit, Sunidhi’s boyfriend, answered on the second ring, voice rough with sleep and worry.
“Where are you, Sunidhi? I’ve been worried sick. Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” Sunidhi said quickly, keeping her voice low. “Don’t worry. I just need a little more time.”
She tried to sound cold, the same cool distance she had used last night after the argument. It was Mohit’s birthday. At midnight they had cut the cake together, planning to take their time, to make the night last. But the moment she took him in her mouth he came too soon, and the fight that followed had been sharp and ugly. She had left the bungalow angry and ended up at the party. Now everything felt different. She still loved him—perhaps not with the same easy certainty as yesterday—but she could not go to him like this, not with the stinging, swollen entrance of her asshole, with her strangely devolved, brand-new gait. Guilt washed through her in a slow, heavy wave.
“Are you really going to do this to me on my birthday?” Mohit’s voice was tight.
“Just give me some more time, okay? I’m fine. I’ll meet you after a while. Don’t worry.”
Behind her, Wasim’s tall frame pressed against her back. He bent his head and kissed the side of her neck as one strong arm slid around her, the sheet trapped between his forearm and the soft weight of her breasts. The hard length of his cock settled against the small of her back, right above the curve of her buttocks.
Mohit was still speaking. “We’ll talk it out, Sunidhi. Just tell me where you are. I’ll come right away.”
Wasim’s hand dropped, found one full buttock, and squeezed. Pain flared sharp and sudden through the tender entrance of her asshole. Sunidhi’s voice broke.
“Stop it!”
“What?” Mohit said, startled.
She forced her tone steady. “Just stay at the bungalow. I’ll be there soon. Bye.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll wait,” Mohit said caringly. “I love you.” He spoke softly.
It never reached her. She had already disconnected the call. The phone slipped from her fingers onto a nearby table as she turned in Wasim’s arms.
Wasim looked down at her. “Boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Her voice was quieter now. “Sorry for yelling. I didn’t mean to… it was…”
He squeezed her buttock again, interrupting her, slower this time, testing.
“Please,” she whispered, the word almost a plea. “Stop. It’s sore. Stings like a bitch.”
“Come on,” Wasim murmured against her mouth, “let’s go another round…”
He kissed her. Sunidhi kissed him back, soft and lingering, before pulling away just enough to speak.
“I have to return to him. It’s his birthday. I don’t want him spending it alone.”
Wasim sighed, the sound low and unconcerned.
“I want to go back,” she continued, “but I don’t know how. This weird gait is all thanks to you and Taushif. Every step feels like…” She stopped herself.
“Like what?” he asked.
Colour rose in her cheeks. She didn’t answer.
Wasim studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “If you truly want to go, it’s fine. I think you should try icing first, then the jacuzzi—in that order. It’ll help with the soreness.”
Sunidhi blinked, surprised. She had no idea that could be a remedy.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. And if you want painkillers, I can arrange those as well.”
She lifted a finger and pressed it gently to his lips, silencing him.
“No painkillers,” she whispered, pressing her finger more firmly against his lips. “I want the ache. I want to feel every swollen pulse in my used little hole… it keeps the whole night alive inside me.”
Her voice dropped lower, thicker. She let the sheet slip just enough so the soft weight of one breast brushed his forearm, then leaned in until her lips nearly touched his.
“I’m so fucking grateful I found you both. Grateful you stretched me, filled me, ruined me the way you did. That night was filthy… and perfect. Thank you.”
Wasim’s mouth curved. “Oh really? Well, we’re not done with you yet, Miss Astrology.”
The moment the words left his mouth her bunghole pulsed with a fresh, warning ache, as if the tender entrance itself sensed danger still lingering close.
“Please, no. I need rest—to recover at least for a week.”
Wasim only laughed. “We’ll see about that.”
Sunidhi hesitated, then asked quietly, “Where can I find some ice?”
He pointed toward the open-plan kitchen. “Check the refrigerator. And you know where the bathroom is, right…”
She leaned in and pressed one soft kiss to his chest in thanks. Then she adjusted the sheet more securely around her body and walked toward the kitchen.
Sunidhi stepped into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator. Cold air spilled out. Her eyes landed on a packet of frozen peas. Without thinking she grabbed it, turned slightly, and pressed the icy plastic straight between her buttocks, right against the swollen entrance of her bunghole.
“Umhhhmmmm—”
The sound left her on a low moan, eyes falling shut. For the first few seconds the sensation was almost shocking—sharp, foreign, too intense against the tender ring. Then the cold began to sink in, spreading a slow, merciful numbness that made her shoulders loosen.
When she opened her eyes again, Wasim was watching her from the doorway. Amused. Openly lustful. The look made heat rush to her cheeks.
“Stop looking, please…” It was embarrassing for Sunidhi.
She started toward him at a half-run, one hand still clutching the sheet across her breasts, the other holding the frozen packet firmly in place against her sore entrance. The cold had already dulled the worst of the sting, enough that she could move faster than before. She brushed past him, stopped briefly at the bedroom door, and glanced back once more before slipping inside.
Taushif was still deeply asleep, one arm flung wide, chest rising and falling in heavy rhythm. She only looked at him for a second before continuing into the bathroom.
Steam was already beginning to rise as she adjusted the jacuzzi controls. She sat on the edge of the tub for several long minutes, the packet of peas still pressed between her cheeks, until the heat of her buttocks melted every last bit of frost from the plastic. Only then did she let the sheet fall to the floor and step into the water.
The first contact of warm water against her chilled skin drew a soft, shaky breath from her. The cold had left her nether entrance almost numb, the swollen ring temporarily quiet. Now the heat began to work in the opposite direction—seeping into the tender flesh, loosening the tight ache that had lived there since the night before. Her pussy, still faintly burning, softened under the gentle currents. She sank lower, letting the water rise over her hips and the soft underside of her breasts, and for the first time since waking the pain eased into something almost bearable.
The water was so warm, so perfectly soothing, that her thoughts began to blur. Exhaustion from the long night pulled at her. Sunidhi closed her eyes and, almost without realizing it, drifted into a light doze right there in the jacuzzi.
She did not stay asleep for long.
Wasim woke Taushif soon after, and the two men entered the bathroom together. To their surprise, Sunidhi was still dozing in the water. Taushif carried two glasses of wine; Wasim held only one for himself. They remained silent at first, simply looking at her—nipples floating just above the waterline, wet hair clinging to her neck, the faint red marks their mouths, pinches and fingers had left across her breasts the night before.
Taushif stepped into the jacuzzi first. A small splash of water struck her skin and startled her awake. She drew a sharp breath, fear flickering across her face for a second—then recognition settled in. She remembered where she was, and a soft smile curved her lips as she looked up at both of them.
Taushif offered her one of the glasses. She accepted it. Wasim simply lowered himself to the edge of the tub, dipping his legs into the warm water so that he sat right beside her face. His phallus was still fully erect; the heavy length swayed and bobbed once as he settled, right next to Sunidhi’s face. Through the clear glass of the tub wall, Sunidhi stole a quick glance at it while she tipped the wine back and took a long swallow.
Taushif took Sunidhi’s free hand and guided it beneath the water to his thick phallus. His fingers closed over hers, wrapping them around the heavy shaft.
“Wasim told me about your state,” he said, voice low with amusement. “I wish I could feel pity for you… but you’re such a filthy slut.”
He laughed. The words landed with a sharp sting of humiliation that, to her own surprise, she also liked. Taushif leaned in and kissed her, deep and unhurried, while his hand kept hers moving in a slow, steady stroke underwater.
Wasim shifted closer, swaying his hips so that the curved length of his phallus gave her cheek a firm, deliberate slap.
“You’re not going to say goodbye to us like this, will you?”
Sunidhi understood exactly what they needed. She broke the kiss, looked up at Wasim, and answered with a small, slutty smile.
“Will you let me leave if I don’t take care of it?”
She leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, set the wine glass aside, and closed her other hand around him as well.
She leaned forward and took Wasim into her mouth first, lips stretching around the thick, downward-curving head. The familiar uneven shape filled her as she sank deeper, tongue working along the shaft. Wasim’s fingers slid into her wet hair, guiding without forcing.
Taushif stepped fully out of the water and sat on the opposite edge of the tub, mirroring Wasim’s position so that his heavy phallus rested level with her face. Sunidhi pulled back from Wasim only long enough to turn and take Taushif in one smooth motion, tasting clean skin and the faint salt of earlier arousal. She moved between them with quiet, focused hunger—deep, wet strokes on one while her fist worked the other, then switching again. The warm water still lapped at her breasts; every shift of her knees sent a dull reminder through her still-tender bunghole, but she ignored it. Soft, wet sounds filled the steamy air as she worked both men with steady, eager attention, cheeks hollowing, tongue pressing firmly along each shaft in turn.
With every slow, wet pull of her mouth her cunt grew slicker again. Even beneath the water she could feel her own warm juices seeping out. The numbness the ice had given her bunghole was gone now; the swelling had lessened, but the raw sting had returned. She welcomed it. Each sharp pulse only made her suck harder, chasing the memory of the night before.
She kept going longer than her jaw wanted. Her lips and tongue began to ache, yet the thought of disappointing them felt worse. Something inside her had shifted—she felt almost obliged, like a paid whore whose only task was to meet their expectations. So she continued, steady and eager.
Wasim’s breathing grew heavier, low grunts rolling from his chest as he neared the edge. He reached for her half-finished glass of wine, then closed his own fist around his curved shaft. Sunidhi released him at once and turned her full attention to Taushif, taking him deep. While she worked, Wasim stroked himself in short, tight pulls until thick, viscous white ropes of cum pulsed into the glass, floating in slow ribbons across the surface of the remaining wine.
Taushif watched, clearly pleased by the idea. He eased her off his cock, took the same glass, and added his own release to it—more heavy spurts mixing with Wasim’s. Sunidhi stared at the cloudy mixture and understood exactly what they wanted. The sight turned her on fiercely. They were humiliating her, using her in the most casual way, yet a strange pride bloomed in her chest, a twisted sense of achievement. They valued her as a whore. They had fucked her mind as thoroughly as they had fucked her body.
Both men slipped back into the water beside her. They raised the glass. Sunidhi lifted it as well. The three of them touched rims.
“Cheers.”
She echoed the word and drank everything in one long swallow—bitter, sweet, and salty all at once. She held the taste on her tongue as long as she could before it slid down her throat.
When the glass was empty she looked at them quietly.
“Can I leave now?”
Wasim gave a small shrug. “Your call.”
She thanked them once more, soft and genuine, then rose from the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom without another word.
Check out the original post this glimpse belongs to: Original Plot: Sunidhi Chaudhary
Happy Roleplaying!