The humid Goa air clung to their sweat-slicked skin, thick with the smell of sex and competition. Rishabh’s powerful thrusts into Bhagyashree’s yielding body sent shockwaves through the bed, a rhythmic punctuation to Naysa’s relentless, possessive tongue.

Bhagyashree’s moans were a symphony of pleasure, each one pitched higher than the last, echoing through the room like a siren’s call. “Oh, Rishabh! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck your wife’s hungry pussy!” Her words were a desperate plea, a demand that clawed at the air with unrelenting need. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, heels digging into his back as she pulled him deeper, her body arching off the bed in response to every thrust.

“You feel so good, Bhagya,” Rishabh growled, his voice thick with desire. His hands gripped her hips, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he hammered into her, each stroke deliberate and punishing. The wet, slapping sound of their bodies colliding was a rhythm that matched the pounding of their hearts, a primal beat that drowned out everything else. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. I can’t get enough of you.”

“Harder, Rishabh! Harder!” Bhagyashree cried, her nails raking down his chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake. Her head thrashed against the pillow, her dark hair fanning out like a wild halo. “I want to feel you everywhere. I want to feel you ruin me!” Her pussy clenched around him, squeezing him with an almost painful intensity, as if her body was trying to milk every drop of his pleasure from him.

Naysa watched from the side, her own body trembling with a mix of jealousy and arousal. She could see the way Rishabh’s muscles flexed with every movement, the way his cock disappeared into Bhagyashree’s slick, inviting folds. The sight was almost too much to bear. “That’s my husband,” she whispered, her voice low and laced with venom. “That’s my cock you’re riding, Bhagya. Remember that.”

But Bhagyashree was too lost in the moment to care. Her cries grew louder, more frantic, her body writhing beneath Rishabh as he drove her closer to the edge. “Yes! Oh god, yes! Rishabh, don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!” Her back arched sharply, her breasts heaving as the first waves of her climax began to crash over her. “I’m coming! I’m coming so hard for you!”

Rishabh gritted his teeth, his pace quickening as he felt her walls tighten around him. “Fuck, Bhagya! You’re going to make me come too!” His thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as the heat in his gut coiled tighter and tighter. “You’re going to take every drop of me, aren’t you? Every. Last. Drop.”

“Yes! Yes! I want it all!” Bhagyashree screamed, her body trembling as the orgasm ripped through her, unstoppable and all-consuming. She clung to him, her nails digging into his skin as she rode out the wave of euphoria. “Fill me, Rishabh! Make me yours!”

He didn’t last much longer. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her, claiming her in the most primal way possible. The room was filled with their shared cries, a cacophony of pleasure and possession that left no doubt who had won this round.

Naysa’s mouth was a blur of motion, her tongue lapping at the mixture of her own saliva and the evidence of Rishabh’s previous climax that seeped from Bhagya. She focused on the swollen bud of Bhagya’s clit, sucking it hard, wanting to steal every ounce of sensation.

“Do you feel that, Bhagya?” Naysa’s voice was a husky murmur against her rival’s most intimate flesh. “Do you feel my husband’s huge cock stretching you wide open while I eat your pretty little cunt? I’m the one making you scream.”

Rishabh was lost in the sensation, his hands digging into the soft flesh of Bhagyashree’s hips, his own groans a deep, guttural counterpoint to the women’s cries. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, a feedback loop of pure, unadulterated lust. He drove into her, again and again, each plunge met by Naysa’s demanding mouth.

Suddenly, Naysa pulled back, sitting up on her heels. Her eyes, blazing with a possessive fire, locked onto Rishabh’s. “Stop.”

Rishabh froze, his body coiled tight, his cock buried to the hilt inside Bhagyashree, who whimpered at the sudden cessation of movement.

“Get off her,” Naysa commanded, her voice low and dangerous.

“Naysa, what—” Rishabh began, but the look in her eyes silenced him. He reluctantly pulled out, his erection glistening and impossibly hard.

Bhagyashree collapsed onto the mattress, her body aching for the fullness it had just lost. “Why did you stop him?” she panted, a flash of genuine anger in her eyes.

Naysa ignored her, her gaze fixed on Rishabh. She crawled forward, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. “You’re going to choose.”

“Choose what?” he breathed, his mind still fogged with pleasure.

“Who gets your cock first,” she purred, her other hand snaking down his stomach to grasp his shaft. She squeezed him, a firm, possessive grip. “You’re going to fuck one of us, properly, until you come. Your real wife, or your… new wife.”

Bhagyashree pushed herself up. “This is our honeymoon, Rishabh! You promised me! She can’t just barge in and—”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Naysa snapped, not even looking at her. Her thumb stroked the sensitive head of Rishabh’s cock, smearing a bead of pre-cum. “Who is it, Rishabh? Who gets this beautiful, throbbing dick? The woman who has loved you for years, who knows every inch of your body… or the new pussy you just bought with a ring?”