The Milkman - 1

The morning sun cast a warm glow on the dusty streets of the bustling city. The chirping of birds and the distant honking of vehicles grew louder with each passing minute. In the middle of this urban symphony, an old, weather-beaten bicycle creaked along, carrying a man whose age was reflected in the lines etched on his face. His name was Rajpal Jadhav, and he had been a milkman for as long as anyone in the neighborhood could remember.

Rajpal's bike wobbled as it approached the Verma's house, the same as it had every day for the past three months. He had grown quite familiar with the layout of the small chawl, the cramped homes stacked like a honeycomb, each with their own stories and secrets. His heart raced with anticipation as he thought about the voluptuous Shalini Verma, the 32-year-old housewife who was always dressed in a simple yet elegant saree. Her stern demeanor and the way she carried herself made him crave her even more.

Shalini had become used to Rajpal's lewd behavior, his daily attempts to get under her skin and into her pants. She had learned to push aside his groping hands and ignore his filthy whispers, but today, something was different. As he handed her the usual plastic bottle of milk, his eyes gleamed with a hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. He spoke with a gruffness that was new to their interactions, his voice thick with desire, "Madam, today I want something more... something special from you."

Her heart racing, Shalini felt a mix of fear and anger bubbling within her. She had always known he was a creep, but she had never expected him to be this bold. He was like a ravenous animal, and she was his prey, trapped in the confines of her own kitchen. She took a step back, her hand tightening around the rolling pin she had been using to make chapattis for her family's breakfast. But before she could say a word, he slapped her so hard that the coconut oil bottle she had been holding slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

The smell of the spilled oil filled the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of the fresh milk, creating an oddly disturbing scent. Without another word, Rajpal grabbed the edge of Shalini's saree and slid it up to expose her plump, round thighs. She gasped, trying to push him away, but his strength was surprising. He chuckled, revealing a mouth full of stained teeth, "You've been playing hard to get for too long, Madam. It's time I showed you what a real man can do." His hand reached up under her blouse, squeezing her breast roughly. She felt a strange mix of revulsion and arousal, a confusing cocktail of emotions that she had never experienced before.

With one swift move, he pulled down her petticoat, exposing her to the cool morning air. Shalini's eyes widened in shock as she realized that her protests had gone unheard, that she was about to be violated by this lecherous old man. But as she opened her mouth to scream, his hand clamped over it, stifling her voice. He pushed her onto the kitchen table, the coldness of the steel surface sending a jolt through her body. She felt his lungi being lifted and the unmistakable pressure of his erection pressing against her thigh.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she tried to struggle, her eyes watering from the pain and humiliation. But his grip was like iron, his other hand now fumbling with the drawstring of his own clothes. His breath was hot on her neck, his stubble scraping against her skin as he whispered, "You've always known you wanted this, Shalini. Don't lie to yourself." The fear in her eyes seemed to fuel him further, and he thrust himself into her with a grunt.

The initial pain was searing, like a hot knife through butter, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. She could feel the tears welling up, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing her pleas. His rhythm grew more frenzied, his hips pumping into her with a ferocity that made the table wobble. Each thrust was a declaration of his dominance, a brutal reminder of her helplessness. Her mind raced, trying to find a way out, but her body was trapped beneath his.

As he continued, the pain began to morph into something else, a burning sensation that spread through her core, making her legs quiver. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the reality of what was happening, but her body responded against her will. The friction grew more intense, and she found herself gripping the edge of the table, her nails digging into the metal. His breathing grew heavier, and she knew he was close. With a final, animalistic grunt, he emptied himself inside her, his body going rigid with pleasure.

"Ahhh....hmm That felt good." He laid right there over her, after emptying himself inside her. She mustured up some of her strength trying to get her senses back. Thinking of what just happened as her life's biggest mistake and sin. A few tears flew down her face, but she didn't make even a llittle bit of noise. Sniffing to herself and wiping her tears, she's caught by Rajpal.

He looks at her face licking her cheek. "You enjoyed it right, my whore." He laughs at her helplessness and his dominance over Shalini's body. "Don't worry, I'll come daily to give you milk and to give you my thing, in between your legs." Sticking big grin on his face as he spits on her back. And then he slaps on her ass very hard. She moaans then gets up. Looking at him in fury and rage, only for it to be unleashed. He takes a step back showing her his thing, and telling her to lick it clean as if she was nothing but a sow.