Bhagyashree heard her. She moaned, long and loud, a sound of pure ecstasy. “He’s not punishing me, you jealous cunt,” she panted, pushing back onto Rishabh’s cock with abandon. “He’s claiming me. Can’t you see? Look at him! He can’t get enough of my married pussy! Tell her, Rishabh! Tell her whose cock this is!”

Rishabh’s answer was a guttural groan, his thrusts becoming wilder, more erratic. His hands clamped on her hips like vices, holding her in place as he drove into her over and over. “Bhagyashree…” he grunted, the name a prayer and a curse.