Khazana-e-Ishq is stroy from Year 1710 during Mughal era
“Chalo, chalo,” the chaiwallah called out, his voice cutting through the early morning fog that had settled over the bustling marketplace. His metal pot clanked against the cups as he hurried to serve the impatient customers, eager to start their day with a steaming cup of tea. Among them was a young couple, their whispers a stark contrast to the market’s cacophony.
“Yeah, I know,” said the girl, a shy smile playing on her lips. “But I couldn’t resist. You know I’ve always been a sucker for those kulfi carts.”
Her partner, a tall and muscular man with a thick beard, chuckled. “It’s okay, but we can’t let anyone see us like this. They’ll think you’re easy prey.”
The girl, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, rolled her eyes playfully. “As if you wouldn’t protect me,” she said, poking him in the ribs.
He put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Always,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. His hand slipped lower, brushing the curve of her ass. She shivered, a thrill shooting through her body.
They wandered through the market, their eyes meeting in secret glances, their bodies brushing against each other in a silent dance of desire. The air was thick with the scents of spices and roasting meats, but all she could smell was his musky scent, the one that made her knees weak and her heart race.
They stumbled upon an abandoned alley, the perfect hideaway from prying eyes. The man looked around, ensuring they were alone, then pushed her against the wall. His hand found its way under her dupatta and began to knead her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple. She gasped, arching into his touch.
With a hunger that surprised even herself, she reached for the drawstring of his pyjamas, freeing his erection. It stood proud and thick, the tip glistening with precum. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling the pulse of his desire. He groaned, his eyes darkening as he leaned in to claim her mouth.
The kiss was fierce, their tongues tangling as their bodies pressed closer. He lifted her skirt, exposing her bare pussy to the cool air. She was already wet, her juices making it easy for him to slide his fingers in and out of her. She moaned into his mouth, her hips moving in time with his hand.
He positioned himself, his cock poised at her entrance. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with anticipation. He thrust into her, filling her up, and she cried out, her nails digging into his back. He began to move, slow at first, then faster, his hips pistoning as he claimed her completely.
The girl felt a wave of pleasure wash over her as he hit all the right spots. Her pussy clenched around him, desperate for more. He pulled out, leaving her panting, and spun her around. He bent her over, her hands flat on the cool stones of the alley. Without a word, he entered her again, this time from behind.
Her moans grew louder, echoing off the alley walls. He reached around to play with her clit, his fingers deft and sure. She felt herself building to a crescendo, her orgasm approaching like a storm. And when it hit, it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Her body convulsed, her pussy clamping down on his cock as she screamed his name.
He didn’t stop, though, driving into her with an intensity that bordered on brutal. She could feel his balls slapping against her ass, his breath hot on her neck. Her own cries grew more frantic as she neared another peak. Her body was no longer her own; it was his to do with as he wished.
And then he pulled out again, leaving her trembling and needy. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes pleading. He smirked, his eyes gleaming with lust. “I want to feel you come around me,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “But first, I want to taste you.”
Without warning, he dropped to his knees, his beard brushing against her thighs as he buried his face in her wetness. Her legs gave out, but he held her up, his hands firm on her hips. His tongue was like fire, licking and sucking at her clit, delving deep inside her. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, and it only made her more desperate.
The girl’s moans grew louder, a symphony of pleasure that filled the alley. She didn’t care who heard; she was lost in the moment, lost in him. She felt herself climbing again, her body tightening like a bowstring. And when she came, it was with a scream that was muffled by his mouth, his tongue still working her over as she trembled and squirted all over his face.
He stood up, his own need evident in the way he panted. He took his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he gazed at her. “Now,” he said, “turn around. I want to see your face when I come inside you.”
The girl nodded, her legs still shaking as she turned to face him. She straddled him, her pussy aching to be filled once more. He positioned himself and pushed into her, his cock sinking into her depths with a groan. She threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall.
Their rhythm was frantic, their bodies slapping together as they sought release. His hands found her hips, holding her in place as he pounded into her. She could feel his cock thickening, his grip on her tightening. And when he finally came, it was with a roar that echoed through the alley. He filled her completely, his cum spilling out of her pussy and down her thighs.
For a moment, they stayed like that, locked together, their bodies entwined. And then, with a final kiss, they parted, both of them knowing that this was a moment they would remember for the rest of their lives. They straightened their clothes and stepped out into the light, the marketplace once again swallowing them whole. But the memory of their passionate encounter remained, a secret shared only between them.
As they disappeared into the crowd, their hearts racing, they couldn’t help but wonder what other forbidden pleasures lay hidden in the shadows of this ancient kingdom, waiting to be discovered by those brave enough to seek them out.
The girl, now a woman, found herself craving these illicit encounters more and more, her thoughts often straying to the feel of his rough hands on her skin, the taste of him in her mouth. She had never felt so alive, so powerful in her own sexuality. And so, she began to seek out new adventures, her desires leading her down darkened streets and into the arms of strangers.
One such evening, as the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the city, she found herself in a dimly lit tavern. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and ale, and the murmur of hushed conversations filled her ears. She spotted a man in the corner, his eyes watching her with a hunger that mirrored her own. He was not like the men she knew from her everyday life, with their clean-shaven faces and respectful glances. This man was different – a Muslim warrior, his skin a shade darker, his beard thick and unkempt.
Their eyes met, and she felt a jolt of electricity run through her. He was dangerous, she could tell, but there was something about him that she couldn’t resist. He gestured to the seat beside him, and she approached, her heart pounding in her chest. As she sat down, he leaned in close, his breath a warm whisper in her ear. “What brings a beauty like you to a place like this?” he asked in Hindi, his voice a seductive rumble.
She smirked, playing coy. “Perhaps I’m just looking for a little… adventure,” she replied, her voice laden with innuendo. He grinned, showing off a set of perfect white teeth. “Then you’ve come to the right place,” he said, his hand reaching out to trace a line up her thigh, under her sari. She shivered at his touch, feeling the wetness between her legs grow.
The conversation flowed easily, fueled by the potent desire that hung in the air between them. He spoke of his travels, his battles, and his conquests, and she listened, enraptured. As the night grew later, the tavern emptied out, until it was just the two of them, alone in the candlelit room. The tension was palpable, their eyes locked in a silent challenge.
Without a word, he stood, taking her hand and leading her up the stairs to a small, musty room. The bed creaked under their weight as they fell onto it, their bodies tangling together in a frenzy of passion. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Her hands roamed over his powerful chest, feeling the scars of battles long past.
He kissed her deeply, his tongue delving into her mouth as he unhooked her blouse, exposing her ample breasts. He took one in his mouth, sucking and biting until she was writhing beneath him. His hand found its way to her pussy, his fingers playing with her clit as he continued to kiss and nip at her neck. She was already soaking wet, ready for him.
He pulled away, his eyes dark with lust, and unbuckled his own pants. His cock sprang free, thick and long, the head a dark plum color. He stroked it slowly, watching her face as she took in the sight of him. “You want this?” he growled, his hand moving faster. She nodded, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
With a grin, he rolled her onto her back and spread her legs, his cock poised at her entrance. She felt a thrill of fear mingled with excitement as he pushed into her, stretching her wide. He filled her completely, his length reaching deep inside her. She gripped the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as he began to move.
Bhabhi ji ghar par hai – Part 1
He was rough, his hips slamming into her with a force that left her breathless. She could feel every inch of him, his cock hitting her G-spot with every thrust. The pain was exquisite, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, her hips rising to meet his.
As they found their rhythm, she felt the walls of her pussy tightening around him, her orgasm building like a crescendo. He reached between them, his thumb circling her clit, pushing her closer to the edge. She threw her head back, her moans filling the small room. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his voice thick with need. “You’re so tight, so wet,” he murmured in Hindi. “I’m going to fill every part of you.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she knew what he meant. He withdrew from her pussy, his cock glistening with her juices. He positioned himself at her other entrance, the one she had never allowed anyone to touch. She tensed, her body both thrilled and terrified at the thought of his invasion. He sensed her hesitation and paused, his eyes searching hers for consent.
With a nod, she gave it, her curiosity and desire overriding any lingering fear. He pushed the tip of his cock into her ass, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving hers. She gritted her teeth, the pain intense, but she didn’t want him to stop. He was gentle, his movements slow and measured, giving her time to adjust. When he was fully seated, he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue mimicking the slow, deep strokes of his cock.
Her eyes rolled back in her head as he began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate. She had never felt so full, so claimed. His beard tickled her neck as he kissed and nipped at her skin, his hand tangled in her hair. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that she couldn’t get enough of. She felt herself climbing again, her body shaking with the force of her impending orgasm.
And when it hit, it was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her ass clenched around him, her pussy spasming with pleasure. She screamed his name, the sound echoing through the room. He grunted, his own climax approaching. He picked up the pace, his strokes growing shorter, harder. And with a final thrust, he came deep inside her, his cum filling her up.
Their bodies lay entwined, their breathing ragged and uneven. They were two strangers, bound together by a moment of raw, primal need. The only sound in the room was the panting of their breath, mingling with the distant sounds of the city outside. As the aftershocks of pleasure subsided, she felt a sense of liberation, a feeling of having crossed a boundary that she never knew existed.
They lay there for a while, their hearts beating in sync.
The girl, her breath still ragged, whispered into the quiet of the room. “I’ve never told anyone this, but I was raised in a Hindu family. I’ve always felt like… an outsider,” she confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
The man, his chest heaving against hers, stilled. “And I,” he murmured, “I am a Muslim. Our union here is a crime in the eyes of many.”
The gravity of her words settled over them like a thick blanket, suffocating the passionate haze that had just enveloped them. They looked into each other’s eyes, and in that moment, they understood that their encounter had just become something much more profound and dangerous.
Their bodies, still connected, became a battleground of desire and doubt. They knew that they were crossing a line that could never be uncrossed, yet the intensity of their shared experience was too powerful to ignore. They were from two different worlds, bound by a passion that was as fiery as the sun that had set on their clandestine encounter.
The girl felt a mix of exhilaration and fear. Her family would never accept a man like him, a man from a different faith, a warrior from a foreign land. Yet, here she was, craving his touch, his kiss, his possession of her body. It was as if she had been waiting for this all her life, to feel truly alive.
He, too, was torn. His duty and his faith pulled him in one direction, while his desire for her tugged him in another. In the quiet of the night, as the candles flickered and shadows danced on the walls, they made a silent pact. They would continue to meet, in secret, to explore the depths of their love and lust.
Their affair grew more intense with each passing night. They found themselves drawn to each other like moths to a flame, unable to resist the heat of their shared passion. They took risks, meeting in secret places, speaking in hushed tones, their eyes filled with the fire of their forbidden love.
The girl began to question everything she had ever known. The rigid rules of her upbringing seemed to crumble away in the face of the raw, unbridled need she felt for this man. And he, too, found himself questioning the boundaries that had been set for him by his own faith and community.
Their love was a secret garden, hidden from the judgmental gazes of the world outside. Each time they met, it was as if they were stepping into a realm where only pleasure and passion reigned supreme. Their rendezvous grew more daring, each encounter more explosive than the last.
