The Fateful Night:
Hello folks. This is my first time writing, I hope you like my story.
Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. I don't really believe in what I write, it's all just fantasy and an expression of my degeneracy. I don't believe in or support any ideas or ideologies derived or implied through this story. This is just for your entertainment and pleasure. Don't take it seriously.
It's a cold, rainy night in a quiet village in West Bengal. Sruthi is an 18-year-old girl working as a store clerk in a newly opened provisional store in her village. Her village is filled with greenery, rivers, hillocks, and lakes. Her father served in the Indian Army and was KIA just before her grandmother passed away. She now lives with her mother alone in a small hut in the outskirts of her village. Sruthi witnessed her village turn from a traditional Hindu village to a settlement of Bangladeshi immigrants. Her grandmother had always warned her about the evil Muslims until her last breath, but in this new world, there isn't really a place for blind hate towards the Muslim where survival meant cooperating with them.
Unlike Sruthi her mother wasn't educated, and worked in the wealthier household of Mr. Rehman as a maid to meet her and her daughter's needs. Sruthi was a loner, as most of her female school friends were either Muslim or had converted to Islam and soon dropped out of school after completing 8th grade, slowly distancing themselves from her. The only girls to graduate 12th from her village were Sruthi and Geetha, who naturally grew close to each other. Geetha, also the only child, but from a well-to-do family, was sent to Kolkata to study in college. The monthly visits from Geetha were the only time Sruthi felt she lived in the same village which has changed so much. Every time Geetha came, she'd have a new tattoo smartly tucked away from the sights of her parents in all the spicy places. She would also tell Sruthi stories of the big city and the swarm of boys who followed Geetha.
Listening to all these stories, Sruthi's female hormones working overtime made her crave for a boy of her own. Although she wanted to date a Hindu guy, her village simply lacked any of her age. Most Hindus in her village had either converted or left following the mass migration of Muslims from Bangladesh. Left with no other options, she started dating Haroon, a 20-year-old, tall and muscular mechanic.
Until this fateful night, Sruthi had held on to her virginity. The store was almost about to close, and the Marwadi owner, who lived a few villages apart, was ready to leave. Sruthi was scared to walk alone to her house and hence called her boyfriend. Haroon soon showed up, and they started walking together, hugging each other tight inside their small umbrella. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and his muscular arms wrapped around her soft feminine body. Halfway home, the rain intensified, and both slipped off the muddy road and fell to the ground. Sruthi's nylon kurthi betrayed her, revealing almost everything it was supposed to hide. She wasn't ready to walk all the way across her entire village exposing herself covered in dirt and mud. Haroon consoled her, suggesting they stay at his mechanic shack which was nearby until the rain stopped. He covered her with his shirt and carried her in his arms hiding her pure body.
His shack was a makeshift tent made of layers of tarpaulin sheets and a sturdy bamboo frame. It reminded Sruthi of how Haroon was a poor boy from Bangladesh from the outside; a strong and hardworking man from the inside. Haroon hastily cleared up his shack, making some space for them to stay. Sruthi felt shy undressing in front of a man, which she had never done before. After much hesitation, Haroon convinced her, that she might contract hypothermia, claiming that the veil (Pardah) of darkness would hide her pious (Pak) body. A couple of hours passed as the rain kept pouring more and more intensely. They decided it would be better to warm themselves, as the chillness kept rising. Haroon made a makeshift fireplace from his kerosene lamp. As they drew closer to the fire, Sruthi was exposed in all her glory: her ample breasts holding firmly in their place, nipples erect as two arrow heads, her pussy, which she had been secretly shaving shyly held its mouth shut, her full lips slightly open gasping for air, and her flat stomach glistening in the mellow lamp. This instantly gave Haroon an erection, drawing Sruthi's attention to it.
She had been desperately avoiding looking at Haroon's naked body all this time, but this was her limit. She had never seen anything like it before - toned muscular body from all the hard work he had been doing and 8 inches of a clean-cut shaft with a big head bulging towards her. The only time she was exposed to a penis was when she was little, when little baby boys would roam around the village naked. His manly sweat pulling her ever closer, both knew they were at the end of their ropes and could not take it any longer.
Sruthi was terrified by Haroon's thick and long circumcised dick. Although she wanted to fuck him bad as blood rushed all over her body, she was afraid of his giant serpent. She pushed him away and slowly tried to crawled away from his anaconda which was staring at her. Haroon was not going to accept this. He grabbed her leg quickly and started pulling her close. His muscular body dragged her soft milky body around like a tiger taking away a little deer. she felt help less and realised what a real man is capable of doing. Her feminine instincts kicked in as her biological desire to mate with a strong male flushed her brain of any fear. Haroon bent down to licked Sruthi's pussy which was overflowing with sweet love nectar, he realised that her pulsating pussy was begging for its master to destroy it.
He finally placed his bulging head on Sruthi's tiny pink pussy gate, thrusting it in with a "Bismillah".
Sruthi screamed from the top of her lungs "O Ma!!", a futile call for help.
The next second she questioned herself "How will ma know about what fucking a Musalman is like?"
Blood was oozing down Haroon's cock as he kept thrusting in and out. Sruthi felt she was going to die any minute, that's when her pain turned into intense pleasure. Her virgin cunt felt like it was being electrocuted with the shock wave passing throughout her body. She had her first orgasm, that too the first time she had sex, something most Hindu women have never experience historically. Sruthi's vagina soon went numb and sore from her orgasm but Haroon was nowhere near finished. It had only been 3 minutes. Sruthi's aching pussy begged for some rest.
Haroon looking at her messy face covered in a mixture of sweat, tears, drool along with bright red colour of her Bindi, notices her in pain changed his strokes and pacing, turning it into a soothing grind. Sruthi's pain turns into pleasure filled pain as he activates every inch of her vagina stretching it out. Sruthi soon realises that the night was going to be long, flooded by pleasure filled pain arising from a big circumcised cock conquering a 'pavitra' girl's vagina. The small shack was filled with the smell of sex with loud moans of Sruthi frequently accompanied by thunderous claps made by Haroon's rough hands landing on Sruthi's tender ass. Nobody knew when this would end but Sruthi wanted it to never end.
To be continued. Looking forward to your comments. Please show your support and don't forget to share this story if you liked it.