My name is Aisha, a 19-year-old college girl living in Mumbai with my parents. I’m slim, with long black hair, fair skin, and a body that turns heads—my breasts are perky and full, my ass is round and tight, and my legs are long and smooth. My dad, Sanjay, is a businessman, and his best friend, Vikram Uncle, is a 45-year-old corporate bigshot who owns a fancy office in Bandra. Vikram Uncle is tall, muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair and a deep voice that always made me shiver. I’d known him since I was a kid—he’d come over for drinks with Dad, crack jokes, and pat my head. But lately, his eyes lingered on me longer, tracing my breasts and ass when he thought I wasn’t looking. I’d blush, feeling a strange heat between my legs, but I never imagined he’d fuck me senseless in his office.
It all started on April 7, 2025, a humid Tuesday evening. Dad was out of town for a business trip, and Mom was at her kitty party. I was lounging at home in a tight crop top and shorts, scrolling through my phone, when it buzzed with a call from Vikram Uncle. “Aisha, beta, can you come to my office? I need help with something urgent,” he said, his voice smooth but firm. I hesitated—why me? But he added, “It’s about your dad’s project. Please, it won’t take long.” I agreed, curious and a little excited to see him alone. I changed into a short red skirt and a white blouse that hugged my breasts, leaving the top button undone to show a hint of cleavage. My pussy tingled as I thought about his eyes on me.
I reached his office around 7 PM—a sleek, modern building with glass walls and dim lights. The receptionist had left, and the place was eerily quiet. Vikram Uncle’s cabin was on the top floor, a huge room with a massive desk, a leather couch, and a view of the city skyline. He greeted me at the door, wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black trousers that clung to his strong thighs. “Aisha, you look stunning,” he said, his eyes roaming over my body, lingering on my breasts and bare legs. I blushed, muttering, “Thanks, Uncle.” He smirked, locking the door behind me. “No need for ‘Uncle’ tonight. Call me Vikram.”
He led me to the couch, offering me a glass of wine. “I lied about the project,” he admitted, sitting close, his thigh brushing mine. “I just wanted you here.” My heart raced—his cologne filled my senses, and his hand rested on my knee, sending sparks up my spine. “Vikram, what do you mean?” I whispered, my voice shaky. He leaned in, his lips inches from mine. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for months, Aisha. Seeing you in those tight clothes drives me crazy.” Before I could respond, he kissed me—hard, deep, his tongue invading my mouth. I moaned into him, my resistance melting as my pussy soaked my panties.
His hands were everywhere—unbuttoning my blouse, yanking it off to expose my lacy black bra. “Fuck, your breasts are perfect,” he growled, ripping the bra away. My perky breasts spilled out, nipples hard and aching. He squeezed them, pinching my nipples until I gasped, “Ohh, Vikram, that feels so good!” He sucked one breast into his mouth, biting gently, while his hand slid under my skirt, finding my wet pussy. “You’re dripping for me, you little slut,” he teased, rubbing my clit through my panties. I squirmed, moaning, “Yes, Vikram, touch me more.”
He pushed me back on the couch, tearing off my skirt and panties in one swift move. My naked body lay before him—breasts heaving, pussy glistening, ass trembling. He stood, unbuckling his trousers, and his big cock sprang free—thick, veiny, at least 8 inches, with a bulging head. “Holy shit,” I breathed, staring at it. “You like my cock, huh?” he grinned, stroking it. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Aisha, you’ll scream my name.” I spread my legs wide, desperate. “Please, Vikram, fuck my pussy with that big cock.”
He knelt between my thighs, rubbing his cock against my pussy lips, teasing me until I begged, “Put it in, please!” With one brutal thrust, he buried his cock deep inside me. I screamed, “Ahh, fuck, it’s so big!” My pussy stretched around him, burning and pulsing as he started fucking me—hard, fast, relentless. The couch creaked under us, my breasts bouncing wildly, my ass slapping against his thighs. “Take it, you horny teen,” he grunted, pounding me deeper. “Ohh, Vikram, fuck me harder, rip my pussy apart!” I cried, my nails digging into his back.
He flipped me over, bending me across his desk, my ass in the air. Papers scattered as he spanked me—hard, making my cheeks sting. “Such a tight ass,” he muttered, spreading my cheeks and spitting on my asshole. Before I could protest, he shoved his cock into my ass. “Fuck, no, it’s too tight!” I yelled, but the pain turned to pleasure as he fucked my ass raw, his balls slapping my pussy. “You love this, don’t you?” he snarled, pulling my hair. “Yes, Vikram, fuck my ass, I’m your slut!” I moaned, my body shaking with every thrust.
Sweat dripped off us as he switched holes—back to my pussy, then my ass again, relentless and wild. He sat on his chair, pulling me onto his lap, facing him. My breasts pressed against his chest as I rode his cock, my pussy swallowing it whole. “Bounce on me, baby,” he ordered, slapping my ass. I did, screaming, “Ohh, your cock’s so deep!” He sucked my breasts, biting my nipples, driving me insane. The office echoed with our moans—wet slaps, gasps, and curses.
Hours passed, the night blurring into a haze of fucking. He bent me over the window, my breasts pressed against the glass, city lights below as he fucked me from behind—first my pussy, then my ass, then back again. “Imagine someone seeing you get fucked like this,” he whispered, slamming into me. “Yes, Vikram, let them watch!” I cried, lost in the thrill. My pussy clenched, an orgasm ripping through me— “Fuck, I’m cumming!” I screamed, juices dripping down my thighs. He kept going, fucking me through it, harder, deeper.
Finally, he growled, “Where do you want my cum, Aisha?” I panted, “Everywhere—my pussy, my ass, my breasts!” He pulled out, jerking his cock. First, he shot a thick load into my pussy, filling me up. Then he aimed at my ass, coating my cheeks with hot cum. Finally, he sprayed my breasts, rubbing it into my nipples. I collapsed on the floor, covered in his cum, my body trembling, pussy and ass sore but satisfied.
He sat back, lighting a cigarette, smirking. “You’re one hell of a fuck, Aisha. Better than I dreamed.” I smiled weakly, still catching my breath. “Vikram, your cock’s amazing. I want more.” He laughed, “Oh, you’ll get it. This office is ours now.”
Since that night, whenever Dad’s away, Vikram calls me to his office. We fuck like animals—on the desk, the couch, against the walls. I’m addicted to his big cock, his rough hands, the way he makes me scream. My dad’s friend turned my boring life into a hardcore sex adventure, and I can’t get enough.