She was dressed in a B school saree and blouse so she must have been a trainee under my husband. Like Ishaan she too was completely naked lying face d...wn on the table. Her long fair legs were on the ground and spread. Her saree/blouse along with her bra and panties were lying on a heap on top of Ishaan’s clothes and he was holding her by her shoulders pumping her from behind. She was making small muffled noises each time my husband’s massive dick rammed inside her understandably young and tight. In twenty they would be on their way to his place. She scoured her shoulders, under her arms, and her torso, cleaning off sweat and semen. In thirty she would be miles away, disconnected from the by-then faceless, graceless, mindlessly fucking animal that they became. Lathering the cloth again, she took extra care in her erasure of all traces of the night’s conquest, rubbing her mound systematically, across the top and down each side. She didn’t care about them, they didn’t care about her. She. More

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