She had changed.
A white bikini top strained against her full breasts, the thin material leaving little to the imagination. A matching white thong cut high on her hips, the narrow string disappearing between her rounded taut ass. She sat perched on the edge of the sofa, her posture now unsure.
I sat beside her, so close our thighs touched. She didn't look at me. I lit the joint, took a deep pull, and exhaled a thick, fragrant cloud directly into her face. She squirmed before relaxing.
My hand moved swiftly. I slapped her breast, then grabbed it roughly through the flimsy fabric, pinching the nipple until it got hard. She gasped.
"Stand up."
She stood, her body trembling slightly.
"Turn around. Bend over the table. Hands flat."
She obeyed, leaning forward until her palms pressed against the cool surface of the low living room table. Her back arched, presenting her ass at the perfect height, the position pulling the fabric of her white thong so taut it became a thin, damp line buried between her ass-cheeks, revealing the delicate slit beneath.
I took out my phone and ordered food--four cheeseburgers, fries, Coke--my voice calm and casual as she held her position.
I continued smoking, my eyes tracing the lines of her body. I knew her. Knew how anticipation worked on her. Soon, a dark, telltale patch bloomed on the white fabric between her thighs, spreading with her wetness. A smug smile touched my lips.
I reached out and hooked a finger under the string of her thong at the back, pulling it sharply upward. The thin lace dug deep into the valley of her ass, pressing tightly. She let out a choked moan.
Keeping that relentless upward pull on her thong, I guided her--half-walking, half-shuffling--toward the spare room. I made her kneel on the cold floor. Her eyes, when she looked up at me, were glazed with a mix of pleasure and ecstasy.
I raised my hand and brought it down hard across the white skin of her ass. The sound was a sharp crack in the quiet room. A sharp gasp teared from her throat. I did it again. And again. Methodical and relentless strikes until the white skin flushed boiling red, marked with the faint beginnings of my handprint.
I then fisted my hand in her hair and pulled her to her feet, a pained whimper escaping her. I guided her to the cupboard, opened it, and took out the leather dog leash--thick and black. I looped the collar around her waist, just above the hips, and buckled it tight. The cold metal of the D-ring pressed into her back.
"On your knees," I whispered into her ear, my breath hot against her skin. Her eyes lit up with raw excitement. We had done this before.
She dropped to her hands and knees, the leash trailing from her waist. I picked up the end and led her out of the room like a pet. We crossed the living room, her knees whispering against the floor, and entered my bedroom.
It was hotter here, than other rooms. On the large bed with its black sheets, Tanya lay sprawled on her stomach, naked, one leg bent. Her ass was lifted slightly, pointed toward the door.
I guided Pooja to the edge of the bed. Taking a firm grip of her hair, I directed her face toward the shadowed valley between Tanya's ass-cheeks. Pooja looked back at me, her breath quick with excitement.
I gave a single, slow lick of my own lips.
Like a rabid bitch, she dove in. Her hands came up to part Tanya's generous cheeks, spreading her wide. Then her tongue was out, lapping and slurping at the tightly furled rose of Tanya's asshole, probing, worshipping with a desperate, focused hunger.
Tanya stirred with a deep moan. She lifted her head, glanced back over her shoulder, and saw the unfamiliar girl buried between her ass-cheeks. A wicked smile spread across her face.
"Pass me the joint, will you?" she mumbled, her voice husky.
"Meet Pooja," I said, handing her the smoldering joint.
Tanya took a long drag, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. "What's for food?" she asked, her eyes drifting closed again in pleasure as Pooja's tongue worked relentlessly, circling and flicking. "I'm hungry."
"I ordered from Burger Heads. He will be here in half an hour. You want some water?" I asked, enjoying the obscene tableau of the two women. It was a fantasy snapped into vivid reality. I had shared threesomes before--with Payal and Satyam, or Payal and Saurabh--but this was my first time orchestrating a scene with two women whom I had not paid. And not just any women. Filthy, beautiful bitches whose depravity mirrored my own.
"Now my pussy," Tanya said, her eyes opening to meet mine. Without waiting for my command, Pooja's head began to dip down below. I bent forward in a flash and slapped her across the face--a stinging blow, albeit controlled. She could not have visible marks where her relatives might see. Pooja's head snapped to the side, her eyes wide, confusion swimming in the arousal.
"You are my bitch," I said, my voice low and iron-hard, peering into her eyes. "So, you only move on my command." She gave a brief, jerky nod of affirmation before returning her mouth to Tanya's asshole, her tongue redoubling its efforts with a submissive fervor.
"I want water too," Tanya said, disappointment evident in her voice. So, I commanded Pooja to get water, telling her she was allowed to stand and walk like a human for this task. She rose clumsily, the leash dangling, and went to fetch water as we laughed at her awkward, eager obedience.
She fetched water and stood there waiting for my next command.
"Give her the water, get naked, and then back to her asshole," I commanded. My bitch rushed to follow, but Tanya sat up abruptly, blocking access with her body. My pet stood frozen, unsure, her eyes darting between us.
"I want to use the washroom, sorry," Tanya said with a laugh, swinging her legs off the bed. She didn't bother to close the door to the attached bathroom, and she even took the joint with her. Tanya was like that. She operated on a frequency of pure self-interest. A filthy slut, yes, but one who fucked entirely on her own terms. She would rim me if the mood struck her, or refuse flatly if it didn't. If she wanted sex, she would simply lay me down and mount me, taking exactly what she wanted. Other people, their emotions, their rules--they didn't register. In that, she was my mirror.
"Pooja, drag the mat in front of the bathroom door and be a doggy," I said as she stood there, adrift. "And spread your legs so Tanya can have a look at your asshole." I lit a cigarette, having been robbed of my joint.
Pooja followed the order, the coarse mat scratching her knees as she positioned herself. She arched her back, presenting herself, legs spread wide, offering the pink view of her own arousal to the open bathroom door. I took a quick photo--her on the floor, doggied and open, with Tanya a blurred, laughing figure in the background, sitting on her porcelain throne.
Once Tanya was done, she cleaned herself with the water jet, the sound loud in the quiet apartment, then went to the sink. She returned to the doorway, now blocked by Pooja's kneeling form. Without a pause, Tanya placed one bare foot behind Pooja for balance and stepped over her, her other foot clearing Pooja's bowed head. She crossed to the bed and kissed me, hungry, her tongue plunging into my mouth, tasting of weed.
After a long, consuming kiss, she pulled back. "My ass is still wet," she murmured, her eyes glinting. "Can you make your pet clean it? Properly?"
I shot an appraising look at Pooja and saw only fervent eagerness on her face. This was uncharted, filthy territory, and she was begging for it with her whole being.
"Lick it clean with your tongue," I commanded, my voice dropping to a graveled whisper. "Every last drop. Then wipe it dry with a cloth." She rose and immediately lodged her face back between the butt cheeks of the standing Tanya, her tongue lapping and slurping with devoted intensity. A deep, almost religious sense of pleasure flooded her expression. Tanya closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips, her hands coming to rest on Pooja's head, fingers tangling in her hair.
My phone rang violently in my hand. The delivery guy was at the door well before time; the bell wasn't working.
"I'll be there in five minutes," I replied, my voice steady. "Tanya, can you get the order?"
"Sure," she purred, not opening her eyes. "Can I go naked?"
"That would be too much for the poor soul. Wear something," I said.
She sighed dramatically and moved, peeling her ass cheeks away from Pooja's wet face. Pooja gasped for air, her lips shining, her eyes dazed and unfocused. Tanya bent--giving Pooja and me an unobstructed view--and scooped up the discarded white thong from the floor. She slid it on with deliberate grace, the lace snapping back against her skin. She then pulled her long, black woolen top down--the fabric clinging to her waist, leaving her hips and the valley of her ass bare beneath the thin string. Her frame thicker than Pooja's.
At the bedroom door, she paused, a predator's smile on her face.
"It's Jitender, right?"
"Yeah," I said. "Same guy."
Jitender. The Burger Heads delivery kid who'd become our favorite unwitting toy. We'd teased the line with him before:
The first time, I opened the door with Tanya beside me in tiny shorts that cupped her ass, revealing the lower curves of her cheeks, and a top stretched taut over her unbound breasts.
The second, she lay sprawled across the couch behind me, wearing nothing but a lace bra and cotton shorts so short they rode up her thighs.
The third, she answered in a long, sheer kurta with nothing beneath--every shift of her body offered a flash of thigh, a curve of hip, a shadowed glimpse of everything.
I followed Tanya out, leaving Pooja on her knees on the mat, still catching her breath in the musk-filled room, the taste of Tanya on her tongue, the burn of my slap on her face, waiting in the dark for whatever came next.
Tanya opened the door. Jitender froze, his eyes wide, the paper bag clutched in his trembling hand. She extended her arm, palm up, fingers curling in a silent command.
He stared, mouth slightly open, before handing over the food like he was in a trance.
I stepped beside her, shoulder brushing hers, joining the game.
"Wait," Tanya said, her voice smooth. She turned slowly, presenting the full curve of her ass to him--the thin white fabric of her thong hid nothing. Jitender's mouth went slack and stayed that way as she walked--hips swaying, cheeks clenching and releasing with each step--to the living room table.
She bent over to set the food down, back arched, ass raised and on display. The thong disappeared completely between her cheeks, framing them perfectly. She held the pose, then glanced back over her shoulder, her eyes finding mine and ignoring his completely.
"Where's your wallet?"
"Bedroom," I said, not looking at her. I was watching Jitender--the raw hunger on his face.
We both stared as she walked away, the rhythm of her hips a quiet taunt. She returned within seconds, standing close beside me, her body pressing into my arm as she counted out 220-rupees. I didn't hesitate. My hand moved to her back, then lower, cupping the curve of her right cheek. She gasped softly, a tiny, performative sound, and turned just enough to let Jitender see what I was doing.
I let out a laugh, she was shameless.
My fingers traced deeper, probing the thread where it disappeared between her cheeks. I pressed lightly against her asshole from under the fabric, feeling her shiver as she handed Jitender the final notes. His eyes were locked on my hand, his erection obvious now.
I decided to cut the fun
"Thanks," I said, my voice flat, and closed the door in his stunned face.
Tanya exhaled sharply-- a mix of frustration and arousal. It wasn't enough. She'd wanted more. She'd wanted me to undress her right there, to let him watch everything.
"I asked Pooja to join," Tanya said, following me back to the bedroom, her voice low with implication. "But she refused."
We ate and after that the afternoon was a blur of skin and surrender. Tanya bent over the arm of the sofa, her gasp sharp when I entered her asshole. Pooja watched, then lowered herself to her knees, her tongue tracing the line of my spine before licking my asshole--a seamless, dizzying sensation. Later, roles reversed, Tanya's mouth on my asshole, tasting Pooja's ass on my cock when I pulled out, her tongue cleaning what was left of another woman from my cock before taking me deep into her throat. We did everything, sex in different positions and iterations, nothing was taboo other than pegging my ass.
In the evening, they left--Tanya on the leather seat of her driver's car, Pooja vanishing into the rattling chaos of an auto rickshaw. I stood in the doorway, smelling of sex, and felt nothing but a hollow static.
Later, I met Satyam and the others at a bar in Khan Market. We laughed about our college lives as I drank whiskey, my mind still echoing with the sound of Pooja begging in my ear while Tanya's nails digging into my hips.
Tuesday, Payal arrived and I had a bottle of gin with her sly smile.
Wednesday, I took Jhanvi--Saurabh's ex--to a rooftop in Kalkaji. She cried as we fucked. Tears of pleasure
Thursday, Pooja returned, harder this time, her lust brimming from her desire to be with me.
Friday, Jhanvi stayed after her college. Her perfume lingered on my sheets.
And at night, Tanya arrived with a weekend bag, her eyes already claiming the space Pooja and Jhanvi had just occupied.
The cycle was relentless. I moved from body to body, from mouth to mouth, forgetting to figure out what I wanted from my life. Each woman left a mark and each was erased by the next. I was the common denominator in their longing, the empty center around which their desires orbited. And in the quiet between their visits, there was only the echo, as I felt alone and lost in my island of CR park.