Hi, Madhan here—an unapologetic erotic storyteller. Thanks to all ISS readers for your support. If you’re seeking secret thrills—girls, women, couples—find me on Hangouts or mail at [email protected] and telegram @msarsstr. Total anonymity guaranteed.
This story belongs to one of my readers, Divya, and it will be narrated from her footsteps.
I (Divya) am basically from Tumkur and moved to Bangalore after completing my graduation to start working for a company. That day is still fresh in my memory: it was the night of December 31st, 2025—New Year’s Eve.
Born into a traditional farming family with many restrictions. I transformed and enjoyed my life only after settling in Bangalore. I made a lot of friends, mostly boys. I am a very talkative girl, and I am easy to approach. As of this date, I had broken up with my second boyfriend and was dating a third boyfriend.
My family in Tumkur would have had zero hints of my lifestyle. At 24, I still remained untouched. I mean, my tight pussy hasn’t felt a dick. Perhaps my talkative behaviour kept the boys I dated scared, leaving our relationships only for talk and a few flirtations.
I had just kissed a few times, that too only with my second boyfriend, but that too felt unsatisfying. My lips longed for a kiss which would never end, longest till my lungs crave for breath and my mouth dries up of saliva.
That night was a company party with around 4,000 people, featuring a Dance floor, a DJ, drinks, and food. I wore the sexiest attire in my wardrobe: a black choli, which would contrast my fairest milky-white skin.
I stood before the mirror, admiring my own hot body and the way the outfit revealed at places. Dirty men’s eyes would crave for me.
A plain black sleeveless choli, which held onto my body by a normal strap on one shoulder and a thin cord on the other, revealing my fair shoulder. The choli stuck to my sexy, small, round, shapely boobs, and the neckline revealed a thin line of cleavage. But the skin of my boobs was hidden.
The back was cut in a deep U-shape, revealing enough bare back for the men of the party to ogle. I brushed my fingers over the fabric, imagining a boyfriend who would be eager to undress me that night. I brushed my finger, imagining my boyfriend who would tear open this choli tonight.
I tied the knot of the lehenga slightly lower around my hips, revealing enough of my slim, sexy hips and belly button. I ran a finger over the belly button, imagining my boyfriend’s tongue playing there tonight. My lehenga had a floral design and was creamy in colour.
I wore a rose gold watch on one of my tiny wrists and bangles on the other. I put kajal on my eyes and a thin layer of lipstick on my lips. I wanted these lips to be savagely sucked and eaten by my boyfriend tonight.
For the first time, I imagined the cock of my boyfriend around these juicy lips. My pussy felt a quiver with all these thoughts. That’s when I received a message from my boyfriend, Pradeep: “Are you ready? I am starting and will reach in 10 minutes.”
I ignored it and didn’t respond, continuing to watch my reflection in the mirror. I wanted my pussy to finally spread for a cock tonight. I was in the full mood for a fuck. I was always scared of the pain of losing my virginity, but not tonight.
I imagined that just by seeing my attire and beauty, my boyfriend would cancel the party and drag me to a hotel to fuck my craving pussy to pulp. Pradeep called to inform me he had reached. I was strapping high-heeled sandals on my delicate feet.
I wanted him to undo these sandals slowly and suck my toes. Uffffff. I need to be fucked tonight.
Idiot Pradeep never gave me an opportunity to blush like I wanted when he ogled my hot body curves. Instead, Pradeep saw me casually, handing me the helmet and saying, “We are getting late.” Angrily, I climbed behind him, maintaining a distance as the engine revved, driving towards the venue.
The anger only flared when other boys of our group ogled and complimented my dress. Pradeep, after hearing a few compliments, scanned my body from head to toes, but still gave no appreciation. My mood for getting fucked had slowly started to fade away.
Forget his cock drilling inside me or his lips sliding across my clitoris. Will he at least kiss my lips? Will his hands feel my curves, my navel, my boobs? I had no idea at that moment. Was it because of the talkative and easy-to-approach behaviour?
I had no idea why the two earlier boyfriends had turned into boy-besties now. At that instant, I had no clue that I would be surrendering my virgin pussy to a stranger—to be precise, a married man.
Only I knew how much of a horny and dirty girl I was. Out of frustration from the lack of attention from my boyfriend, I took a stroll, looking for the eyes of other boys. The boys who would eat me alive with their hungry eyes. I needed some consolation for wearing my best dress ever.
I needed some eyes to ogle me and make me wet down between my slim thighs. After passing multiple boys who glanced at my beauty. But none created the warmth and wetness in my pussy or butterflies in my stomach.
That’s when I noticed the stranger who looked younger and seemed married. I was magnetically pulled to see him. He stood alone with a glass of whiskey and a stern face, looking towards the stage.
I prayed for his eyes to catch mine. Like a granted blessing, his lifeless, malicious eyes met mine. Fuck! I started blushing, and my eyes couldn’t continue his glance. Unspoken and sudden attractions were exchanged between our eyes.
His eyes scanned my body with his eyeballs, stopping at my curvy places. Oh fuck, I felt like his manly eyes stripped me nude and saw my raw, delicate, bare body. After the blush, I noticed a small smile across his lips as he broke the stare and looked away.
I wanted him to continue looking at me. Losing control, I walked to come back into his view. I adjusted my loose hair and shook my earrings. Gulping the whiskey slowly, he stared, meeting my eyes. He slowly moved his gaze to my small size-34 boobs and then to my lehenga.
His eyes were eating away at my bare, milky, slim navel. He spent more time around my pussy. This time, his stare felt like he was fucking me while I cried. My pussy lips quivered under his gaze. Oh god, I felt wet in no time. I secretly begged to get fucked by this man.
I knew at that moment that he would satisfy my bodily needs. Instantly, I was ready to surrender my virginity to this stranger. Does he have any clue that I am a virgin? The answer would be no.
As I left him with a sad face, I desired him to follow me. But the stranger stood his ground, continuing to sip his whiskey and watch the show.
The next time I saw him was in the parking lot while leaving the venue. He started his Bike. But the moment he noticed me walking with my friends, he stopped his bike. He stood staring at me, which my boyfriend and the group also noticed.
But this stranger seemed not to care about them at all. I felt ecstasy. My small nipples flared erect, poking through the choli. My boyfriend and friends did not say anything about his staring.
This stranger continued to stare at me even after I passed by. I controlled myself not to turn around, but I did, and a small smile was exchanged between us. Was he watching my ass cheeks? They were hidden in the bushy lehenga.
I felt a tinge of pain when his bike finally left, passing me by. I felt frustrated reaching home, since even my current boyfriend left me raw and didn’t even dare to initiate a kiss. I, too, lost interest and did not provoke my boyfriend after seeing the stranger.
That night, Immediately locked my room and threw away my dresses. My saliva-wet fingers reached my starving, wet, shaved pussy. I had shaved, expecting something horny tonight from my boyfriend. But the stranger took my attention.
I started massaging and caressing the dripping pussy, imagining the stranger’s deadly stare. That night, imagining the stranger’s manly fucks, I orgasmed twice and slept dirty and nude.
My eyes looked for the stranger everywhere from Jan 1st, but only found disappointment. As the saying goes, if you look, you will find. It was a small street with lots of tables with vegetables and fruits. I found him.
The excitement of catching him vanishes since he was with his wife and a son who was around 5 years old. The stranger’s eyes caught mine. He quickly noticed me with a smile and strolled toward me.
An ecstasy fills me. “Hey, hi.” I smile and return, “Hi.” (Our first conversation) I liked his boldness in initiating the conversation. His wife continued to buy tomatoes away from us. My eyes watched his, and the same blush returned, reddening my cheeks.
Watching my smiling eyes with his dead stare, he said, “You were looking very gorgeous that night.” Fuck, the compliments come so quickly. I blushed, looking at the ground. The stranger looked in the direction of his wife, indicating there was something secretive between us.
His daring reached new heights with his next question: “I want to meet you personally; give me your number.” My face turned serious, a natural response for a girl. But my lips did not support that expression. Instead, I started dictating the numbers out quickly.
He dialled and put the phone to his ear. I could hear my caller tone spilling out of his phone. “I have given you a missed call, cutie. I am excited and happy to see you.” He shook my hand again, and this time his hand remained in mine longer than usual.
I could sense the roughness and strong hold of his clasp. He smiled and left me standing. Smiling because he called me cutie, I left that location.
My eyes glanced at the mobile screen repeatedly, expecting a message from the stranger. I had only some unread messages from my boyfriend, which I had left unread. Not even for a second did I think of my boyfriend.
Curiosity took over, and I searched his number on Truecaller. It was Madhan (name changed). I quickly scanned social media (Instagram and FB), but could not find a trace of him. I couldn’t sleep that night. Angry that he took my number but didn’t bother to text, I finally slept very late.
The moment I woke up, I scanned my phone for a message, but there was none. Did he expect me to send the first message? No, I am a beautiful young girl; usually, I shouldn’t and I won’t. But I sent the first “Hi” at 10:00 AM from the office the next day.
The message was delivered, but he didn’t reply till 11:00. I deleted the message from WhatsApp. I was so sad that I had no interest in working. My brain was on the stranger. He replied at 11:10 AM. “Hi, cutie.” There was no “sorry” like other boys usually say.
Shamelessly, I replied instantly. The first day of chat went by with general discussions, ending at 11:00 PM with him asking for a pic from New Year’s Eve.
His asking for a pic in my favourite attire made my heart flutter, and I sent him one. He replied with a sad emoji: “Only one pic of the cutie?” His words made me smile, and I sent six more. One was an intimate shot I took in the mirror.
His next reply, “good night,” was unexpected. I thought he did not like me, just like my previous boyfriends. I scolded myself for giving so much affection to this idiot. I quickly deleted all the pics and had another sleepless night.
I felt a new rush seeing kiss emojis that landed at 6:00 AM with a message: “I can’t take you off my head, cutie pie.” In a second, the anger/frustration disappeared, and a smile crossed my face. “I want to see you now.” While I read this message, he video-called me. I disconnected it.
Sorry, this story is very slow but passionate. Bear with me. Lots to come in the second part.