SexyText - porn stories and erotic novellas

My Wild Train Journey Ch. 02

Author's Note

If you haven't read Chapter 1 of My Wild Train Journey, do that first--because this isn't where Divya's story begins. This is where it slips, spreads, and spirals. Part 2 only hits if you've felt the tease, the denial, the dirty promise she made before boarding that train. What follows is deeper, filthier, and far more dangerous. No spoilers--but if you thought the first part made you hard, wet, or aching... this one won't just finish the job--it'll fuck your mind raw.

Before we dive in--let me show you the red dress.

Two flimsy straps barely cling to her shoulders, trying to hold up a pair of 38DD tits that clearly weren't meant to be caged. The cleavage isn't just deep--it's reckless. Only the soft flesh below her nipples is covered; the rest is out there, bouncing, jiggling, daring someone to blink. One step too fast and a swollen areola will slip free. Sideboob? Full display. From the front, from the sides--her tits look like they're begging to fall out. The hem ends just three inches below her ass, tight enough to hug every curve, loose enough to ride up with every step. Her thick, slutty thighs are fully out--on display, on purpose--every inch of skin between her waist and her knees begging to be stared at. Bend even slightly, and anyone behind gets a perfect view of her thong-clad soft, shameless ass. This isn't a dress--it's a warning. It covers less than her sluttiest bikini, and if she wore this on a Goa beach, she'd still turn everyone's heads. But she didn't wear it for the beach. She wore it to a crowded train. On purpose. Because Divya isn't careless. She's filthy. And that dress? It's not a mistake. It's a fucking message.My Wild Train Journey Ch. 02 фото

This part starts exactly where Part 1 ended--so if you're foggy, read the last few lines again. I write slow-burn filth on purpose--because Divya's mind matters as much as her dripping cunt. Her journey isn't just bold--it's breaking her open from the inside out. And this series? It's heading somewhere wild. Sluttier. Unforgivable. A place where even her darkest fantasies will beg for mercy. Because they're mine too. And trust me--I don't stop at just cum, shame, or gangbangs. I drag her through the filth till she forgets what innocence even tasted like.

Harsh (watching her quietly, voice steady) You exposed more with your mouth than you did with your body today.

Divya What do you mean?

Harsh (gentle but firm) You think that cum walk was the reveal? No. It was everything you said after.

Divya I--I didn't mean to--

Harsh (soft but piercing) You said you were never meant to be hidden. You said let them watch, let them burn. You said strangers can meet you in Coach B5. That's not arousal talking. That's truth breaking loose.

Divya I don't usually talk like that... I don't even know where it came from. Please forgive me, Harsh. I didn't mean any of the things I said.

(she suddenly crosses her arms over her chest, also pulling the dress fabric tighter to hide her cleavage, then tugs the hem down nervously, afraid she might flash the thong clad ass to someone sitting in bench behind her)

Divya What the fuck did I just do?

Harsh Sit down. You're shaking.

Divya (sits reluctantly)

Harsh (pulls a cold bottle from his bag and offers it) Drink. You need to cool down.

Divya... thanks.

Harsh We need to talk.

Divya About what? I already said too much.

Harsh No. You finally said something real. And now you don't get to hide from it.

Divya I don't want to do this right now.

Harsh You don't have to perform. Or defend. Just listen for a second.

I'm doing my master's in psychology. I've trained to read faces, posture, tone, behavior. Micro-reactions, breathing patterns. And Divya... I've been reading you from the moment you walked in. You weren't hiding from me. You were leaking through your every move. And now, after everything you've done--and everything you said--it's impossible to lie to me.

So if we're going to talk... you talk to me like the Divya who just admitted she liked being watched. The one who walked out glazed in cum and called it power.

Drop the mask. Just talk. Raw. Like you were a few seconds ago.

Divya (quiet, still holding the water bottle tight) I don't know who that woman was, Harsh. It didn't feel like me... not the me people has seen till today

Harsh (watching her, silent)

Divya I've always controlled it. Every look, every touch, every near-slip. Even when I fucked up, I made sure no one ever knew.

(voice hardens slightly) What happened today... I've never let it go that far. Never let the world see me like that.

(swallows, gaze drops) And then I walked out with cum still on my face. Like I wanted to be caught. And then I started talking like... like,,,,

Harsh (quietly) Like yourself.

Divya (whispers) I didn't feel powerful, Harsh. I felt exposed. Like I slipped--and everyone saw. Like I'd torn the safety net and just kept falling. No pride. No control. Just shame.

(looks up slowly) And you just stood there. You didn't say anything. You didn't stop me.

(voice cracks) You made me feel seen. Too seen.

Harsh (gently) And you hated that?

Divya (suddenly cold) I didn't just hate being seen, Harsh. I hated every second after. Every whisper, every stare, every fucking drop I let stay on my face--I hated it.

Divya (voice rising) And I hated you for standing there. Watching me. Letting me walk out like that.

Divya I was dripping wet from back-to-back blowjobs. Still tasting one. Still glazed by the other.

And you just watched--like I was some fucking science project.

You didn't protect me, Harsh. You provoked me.

You knew exactly what you were doing.

You studied weakness--how I short-circuit when I'm horny

And you used that. Not to stop me. Not to help me.

You used it to see how far I'd go. How deep I'd drown myself in filth just because you rewired my fucking brain..

You're not my savior, Harsh. You're the one who lit the match and smiled while I burned.

Divya I'd just been on my knees in a half-built toilet, throat fucked by two boys I didn't even anything other than there names. I swallowed one of them and let the other coat my face like I was his personal cumrag. I was still tasting it when I came out, Harsh. Still breathing hard, thighs soaked, my body trembling from the high. And instead of helping me come back to reality... you just stood there. You let me march out like I wanted to be their cum-doll.

Divya (pointing at him) You used it, Harsh. You knew I was horny as hell. Knees still shaking. Brain fogged from the orgasm

Divya And that's when you chose to start digging into me? You didn't help. You didn't ground me. You lit a fucking fire under me.

Divya You're doing your master's in psychology? Then maybe you should know what not to do. You're supposed to help people heal--not push them deeper into shame. Not push them into things they didn't want to admit.

Harsh (voice calm, unapologetic). Wasn't this already your fantasy, Divya? The cum on your face, the stares, the shame?

Divya No. It wasn't.

Harsh (tilting his head) You sure? Because I know how to read a lying face--and yours is screaming.

Divya (angrily) It's not about fantasy, Harsh! It's about ethics. It's about morals--lines that shouldn't be crossed even if they're tempting.

Divya (voice rising) And because of your low moral compass, I ended up acting like some characterless slut.

Harsh (deadpan) No, Divya. I didn't drag you anywhere. I just stopped you from hiding what you already were. You had this fantasy long before today. I didn't put it in your head--I just helped you put a checkmark next to it.

Divya That's not true.

Harsh (presses in) You said it yourself--you felt powerful. You said you liked it. You stared people down with cum still on your face and said let them burn.

Harsh So stop pretending this wasn't a box you've been dying to tick.

Divya (quiet, shaking her head) No... it wasn't like that.

Harsh (voice firmer now) Then why did it feel right when it happened? Why did you look proud when you walked out? There was the biggest smile on your face, Divya. You walked through that waiting room with cum on your cheeks and a glow like you'd just won something. You weren't ashamed--you were smirking straight at people's faces. Hell, you smiled wider in that moment more than when I saw you kneeling in front of us, mouth open, eyes up, swallowing Gaurav's cum like you were starved.

Divya (soft) Because I lost control. Because I was--

Harsh (cuts in) Because it turned you on. And because you'd imagined it. Over and over.

Divya (voice breaking) Stop...

Harsh Admit it.

Divya It's not that simple--

Harsh It is.

This wasn't some reckless accident.

This was a door you've been eyeing for years. You just needed someone to unlock it.

You needed an excuse. A trigger..

Divya (finally breaking, eyes tearing)... Fine.

(pause)

It was a fantasy. Since college.

Divya (voice barely audible) The public walk. The mess. The shame. The eyes. All of it. I just never thought I'd actually... do it.

Harsh (cold now, steady) So after everything--after living your fantasy down to the last filthy detail--you still tried to make me the villain?

Harsh You stood there trembling, cum dripping off your chin, smiling, and then what? You threw the word ethics in my face? You wanted to make me feel guilty so you didn't have to. You said I used you. That I took advantage when you were weak. But you weren't weak, Divya. You were ready. You just didn't want to admit it.

Divya I--

Harsh (cuts in, sharper) You were the one who got on her knees. You were the one who let them cum on your face. You were the one who walked out and performed. And then you stood there, high off the moment, and threw blame at the one person who didn't lie to you.

Harsh You wanted a story you could live with. "He pushed me. I was vulnerable." Bullshit. You weren't a victim, Divya. You were a woman checking off a box she's dreamed about since college.

Harsh (leans in, voice cold) So say it. Say you're sorry--not because I need to hear it. But because you can't take back what you said, and you know it was a lie. I don't want your apology. I want your guilt. I want you to admit that you used me as your scapegoat because the truth was too dirty to say out loud.

Divya (voice cracking, eyes wet) I'm sorry, Harsh. I really am. You didn't force me. You didn't trap me. You just held up the mirror--and I hated what I saw. I blamed you because I couldn't face the fact that I've wanted this. Needed this. For years.

Divya You didn't push me--I jumped. And now that the rush is fading, I feel... ruined. Like I peeled off every layer I'd ever used to protect myself and let the whole world watch.

Divya I'm not just sorry, Harsh. I'm... ashamed. And grateful. And fucking terrified of what that says about me. Thank you. For not lying. For seeing me when I didn't want to be seen. For not stopping me--because I would've hated you for that too.

Harsh (voice cutting low, precise) You think I want your sorry now? Your thank you? You think a few shaky words and a trembling lip will fix what you threw at me back there--when you spat guilt on my name to wash the filth off yours?

Harsh Let me guess what you're thinking. "Maybe if I just kneel down right now in this waiting room and suck his cock till I cry, he'll forgive me. Maybe if I swallow every drop and smear the rest across my cheeks like before, that'll be enough."

Harsh (leans in slightly, eyes locked) But no. I don't want that from you. Not anymore.

Harsh That wouldn't even scratch the surface of what I want now.

Divya (voice trembling, eyes glassy) You knew. You fucking knew I was thinking that, That if I just got on my knees right now and sucked your cock, & you'd forgive me.

Divya Thought : How the fuck does he always know?

Every twist in my gut, every dirty exit strategy I build in panic--he sees it. Like he's living inside me.

I didn't say a word. I barely even looked at him. But he knew.

He knew that in the last five seconds, I already imagined unzipping him and begging through my tears. That I'd make a scene again if it meant earning even a sliver of his forgiveness.

He reads me like he wrote me. I want a man like this in my life

God, how do you fight someone who already knows what you're going to surrender to?

Divya Please... I want your forgiveness, Harsh. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I don't care if the police arrest me for doing something like that in public. Let them. Just... please allow me.

(she drops to her knees, right there in the centre of the waiting room, folding her hands in front of him)

Divya Let me suck your cock. Let me earn it. Not to turn you on--but to show I mean it. I was wrong.

(she speaks louder now--on purpose. Her words echo. A few heads turn. A few gasps. She's not just apologizing--she's putting herself on trial )

(She's weak when she's horny... but weaker when she's sorry. This is Divya.

She's been called things she wasn't--and now she's done the same to the only man who never did that to her..)

Divya I'm sorry, Harsh. Please. Please forgive me.

(as she bows forward, the front of her dress shifts, and her left breast slips partially free. Half a nipple exposed, barely clinging inside the fabric, swinging as she bows again)

Harsh (immediately tense, eyes flicking around) Get up. Now. Divya--stand up.

Harsh (voice low but urgent) Come with me. Right now.

(turns around starts walking, not waiting for a reply, then sharply)

Harsh Gaurav--bring our bags out. Now.

(Gaurav stares for half a second, then grabs bags quickly, following behind)

Divya Thought: I walked behind Harsh, still dazed. Arms at my side. The left side of my chest was still half-exposed, and I didn't even notice. Didn't cover it. Didn't care. The waiting room wasn't just a room anymore--it had turned into a courtroom. And me? I was walking through it like the verdict had already been delivered.

Eyes followed me.

Some wide with shock.

Some smirking.

Some just blank--like they'd seen this before and stopped caring.

My steps were slow. Quiet. But deliberate.

My head was slightly lowered--not out of shame. No, it was something deeper.

Obedience.

While walking That's when I felt it--the chill against my skin, the faint shift of fabric. My left nipple had slipped further out. Still exposed. Still swinging softly with every step I took.

I noticed. Of course I did.

But I didn't fix it.

Not unless Harsh told me to.

Because right now, Harsh wasn't just a man.

He was the man.

The only one who had ever seen me so clearly, read me so completely.

He was dissecting me like a case study.

And God help me--I wanted to beg him to never close the file.

If he walked away, I'd break.

If he didn't forgive me today, I knew what I'd do the moment I reached Mumbai.

I'd open Tinder & Bumble accounts

And in my bio I'd write:

"Only looking to date psychologists. Someone who can read me."

Because since Pankaj... no one had come close.

No one had held my thoughts in their hands and pressed on the right ones--until I moaned or cried.

But Harsh?

Harsh wasn't just crossing lines.

He was living inside the center of my filthiest, most sacred fantasies. Like he'd always belonged there.

Pankaj understood my need to dress wild. To tease. To flirt from a safe distance.

But Harsh?

Harsh didn't stay at the edge.

He dragged me across it.

Made me live what I used to only imagine... so many times.

And I didn't know if I should run from him--or fall at his feet and never get up again.

I stepped out of the waiting room's shadow, where Harsh stood alone near the gate.

Harsh (loud, sharp, his voice cutting through the crowd) Cover your nipple, Divya. Now.

(she jolts, instinctively tugs the dress across her chest, nipple slipping back in, but her hands tremble)

Harsh (voice stern, commanding) And if you really want forgiveness--

You ask me properly. You don't scream it. You don't beg like a drunk cum slut

You look me in the eyes, and you ask: "Harsh, how can I say sorry to you?"

Divya Harsh... how can I say sorry to you?

Harsh (voice calm, but commanding) I don't want an apology, Divya. Not the kind you give with words. I want your complete truth. Your full obedience. Raw. Unfiltered. Nothing polished. Nothing wrapped in shame.

You want my forgiveness? Then give me you. The real one. Not the edited wife version. Because we only have 20 minutes before your train comes. And we've barely scratched the surface of who you are.

Gaurav (approaching, phone in hand, casual)

Correction--make that thirty. Both our trains are delayed.

Harsh (without looking away from Divya)

Perfect. Time to dig deeper.

Harsh (quiet, cutting)

But tell me something first--why do you care if I forgive you?

I'm just a stranger, Divya. A name you'll forget thirty minutes after boarding that train.

Why does my forgiveness even matter?

Divya (eyes lowered, voice uneven)

Because you're not just a name.

You're the first man who's ever truly understood me.

Some came close. Pankaj... tried.

Others got pieces of me--maybe the wild, maybe the soft--but no one read me like you.

You see all of me. The shame. The thrill. The filth. The ache.

And you don't flinch.

You don't look away.

I want to keep you for my life.

Harsh (steady, watching her break)

 

So here's my offer. I'll give you my number. I will give you, my time. My attention. My friendship, for life, if it is real.

Harsh But only if, by the time you board that train, I believe every word you've spoken was honest. Because I don't build trust on stories--I build it on faces, And remember--I'm a face reader, Divya. I catch lies before your lips even close. So if you're going to run... do it now.

Harsh But if you're going to stay?

Then open the doors you've kept locked for years. Let me in. All the way.

Divya: What truth do you want, Harsh? From where?

Ask me anything--anything--and I'll answer it with honesty. No filters. No shame.

Harsh This duality you live in... you walk like a tease, dress like a randi(whore), suck cock like a cumdump let strangers coat your face like a cumrag but the moment someone says it--slut, whore, randi, chinaal, cocksucker--you break. You shrink. You retreat.

Harsh Why?

Harsh Is that just part of your play, Divya? Flinch a little to feel more innocent?

Harsh Or is it deeper than that? Is there something in you that can't wear the word, even if you've already lived the act? Because this... this feels like something that started long before. Have you ever been called those names before, Divya? Maybe when you didn't deserve them? Maybe back when you were still trying to be a girl who smiled too much, who hit puberty too fast, who didn't understand why people looked at her like that.

Harsh Maybe those words hurt before they ever turned you on.

Harsh had hit the jackpot with just the first question.

Divya Nobody knows this about me till now. Not my in-laws. Not even the few friends I pretend to keep. Only one person has ever heard it is--Pankaj.

Divya I told him everything before we got married. Because I knew what kind of family he came from--educated, respected, rich. And I knew the kind of background I came from, I didn't want his mother or his family digging into my past and finding it out from someone else. Because if she had... I'd never have stood a chance with him.

Divya And Pankaj--he listened. He didn't flinch. He didn't look away. He just held my hand and said, 'Thank you for trusting me.'

Divya we had a quiet court wedding. No extended relatives. No noise. Because there was nothing to show, and everything to protect. He told his family I was perfect. That everything about me was exactly what they needed to hear. He shielded me--completely. He's the only one I've ever told. Until now.

Divya My mother... was a prostitute.

Divya Not because she was weak. Because she was cornered.

Divya She got with me pregnant at twenty-one. No ring. No savings. Four boys in rotation. No clue which one was the father. Her family abandoned her the moment she confessed. Said she was filth. Said she deserved the life she'd made. But she didn't abandon me. She stood on the street every night in the red light area in Nagpur to feed me, to clothe me, to raise me like I deserved more.

Divya I saw her work. I saw men come in. I saw her smile afterward. Not proud. Not broken. Just... strong.

Divya And I respected her. I still do.

Divya But kids in school? They didn't see her strength. They just saw me. And they called me randi ki bachhi, whore & what not before I even knew what that word meant.

Divya I was nine when I heard it the first time. And from that day on, it stuck.

Those words. It never left me.

Not because I believed it. But because I feared it.

So I lived with this... duality.

I did what I wanted. Took what I craved. But always from behind the curtain.

I flirted, I fucked, I crossed lines--but I kept my image clean at least in words

Because I could handle the guilt of what I did...

But not the shame of what people called me for it.

It's not the act that cuts me.

It's the judgment. The way words can erase everything else I am.

Harsh isn't here to cradle her past. He processes the truth, shows just enough sympathy to be human--but then snaps back into control, drilling her for timeline, triggers, and evolution of her behavior. He wants to know: When did this begin? Was marriage the mask--or the ignition?

Harsh (flat, unreadable) Thank you for telling me that, Divya.

Harsh And no--I'm not going to get sad about it. You don't need sympathy right now. You need questions. And I need truth. So let's move to the next one.

Harsh were all goody-goody until marriage... and then suddenly started cheating? Don't say those two cocks in that bathroom were your first. Not after marriage. Not ever. And where'd you even meet your husband Pankaj? You said a few minutes ago that the public cum face walk was your fantasy since college. So what were you before marriage, Divya? Already this bold? Already this... slutty?

Divya I met Pankaj at the gym in his society.

Harsh (narrowing his eyes)

Wait--what the fuck were you even doing in his society?

Divya I wasn't even supposed to be there--I was a stranger.

Crashed a party the night before, ended up spending the night with some guy I barely spoke to. Woke up in his bed, gave him a lazy good morning blowjob to say goodbye. No drama. No name. Just... a clean exit with a protein shake made from his cock and walked into the gym at his society like it was just another Tuesday.

Divya that's when Pankaj noticed me. I wasn't dressing slutty for the gym. But I was bold. Easily the boldest girl in there. Pankaj noticed me not because I looked slutty. I didn't. But I was confident. Loose. Charged.

Divya And let's be honest--my sports bra never stood a chance against my 38DDs.

My shorts barely held my ass in place. My tummy was flat, but everything else... soft, loud, impossible to ignore.

Divya There was always cleavage. Always curve. No matter what I wore or how I wore it.

Divya That's what Pankaj saw. My face, my tits, my ass, my curves--his eyes scanned everything in the first five seconds. And he knew he liked it. He didn't just get attracted to me. He locked in. Like he'd found something rare and dangerous.

Harsh: so you were always a slut, weren't you? Before marriage, also. So tell me--when did it actually start? When did the slut switch flip? And be honest with me, Divya... you have your body count

Harsh: Or maybe the real question is--just how big of a slut were you? & are you?

Harsh: Give me something filthy. Just a glimpse. Enough to prove you aren't just a horny wife--you were meant for this.

Divya Till I was in 12th class--under 18--my mother protected me. She never let any man touch me.

Divya But I still watched. Every night. Every morning. Fucking, sucking, blowjobs, rimjobs, handjobs, titfucks, anal, spit roasts, gangbangs. Everything a man could buy with money, my mother gave. And everything I wasn't supposed to see--I saw.

Divya We lived in a one-bedroom flat in a red light area in Nagpur. No luxury. No privacy. She'd fuck in the hall, and I'd be in the bedroom. She'd say, "Don't come out till I tell you."

Divya But I peeked. Through the curtain. Through the keyhole. Sometimes twice a day.

Divya And most of the time... the door wasn't even fully closed. She stopped caring. Stopped hiding it from me. I watched men enter our home, unzip, fuck her in the hall, moaning like animals--while I sat just ten feet away, pretending to do homework. I watched live porn before I even understood what porn was. And it wasn't behind a screen. It was our house. My life.

Divya So by the time I turned eighteen and left for Pune, I was a volcano--ready to erupt.

I didn't just choose that city for college. I chose it to escape.

And my mother knew. She never said it out loud, but she wanted me gone too.

Not out of shame--out of protection.

She'd heard the whispers. The name-calling. The way people looked at me.

So when I said I wanted to do a five-year law degree in Pune, she just nodded.

We both knew I wasn't running from studies. I was running from the weight of who they thought I was.

And Pune felt like a chance to become someone I could live with.

Divya I couldn't hold it anymore. Within a month, I'd fucked six classmates. One after another. Seducing them. Wearing tight tops. Leaving hostel windows open while changing.

Divya If fucking six boys in your first month counts as being a slut--then yes, I became slut in my first month of college in Pune

Harsh how deep did it go?

Divya I didn't spread my legs for survival for money. I did it for fun. For the heat. For the rush of knowing I could walk into a class and walk out with someone's cum still dripping inside me.

Divya I seduced one after the other. Smiled at one while licking another's cum off my fingers. Sat on one cock while texting the next one.

Harsh (voice low, almost taunting)

That's filthy, Divya. But don't stop there.

I want numbers--I want the mess. The moans. The madness.

Tell me something graphic. Something that still makes your thighs twitch when you remember it.

Make me see why you kept going back for more.

Divya

I can't give you a body count, Harsh. Or a total cock number from college years--because I stopped counting.

I tried at first, noted them down like trophies in my brain.

First few months, I thought I could keep track.

But then the cocks came faster than I could update my list.

So no--I can't give you a number.

But I can give you something better.

Something filthy.

Something that'll make you see exactly what kind of whore I became when no one was watching.

You still want that, don't you?

Harsh Every filthy detail.

Divya And I only got better at it month by month--being a whore in the common washroom, a chinnal behind the library, a cumrag on the hostel rooftop, a cocksuker in the back of the auto, a cumdump under the staircase, a cocksucker in the music festival, a anal-slut behind the gym mirror, a randi inside the boy's dorm, a dick devotee with a professor's driver, a cocksleeve with a stranger I never even asked the name of. A fucktoy for the hostel watchman--just so he'd let me sneak out at night to choke on more cocks.

Divya I was never scared. Never confused. I knew what I was doing.

I just didn't care.

Divya And somewhere along the way... I became more of a slut than my mother ever was.

Not for survival. Not for rupees.

Just for the urge. The ache.

Because it felt good to be wanted, used, called names in the dark--and still walk out smiling.

Divya I've always been careful, Harsh.

Divya I've fucked in washrooms, in college hostels, in cars, even during festivals when the music was loud and the lights were off.

Divya I've sucked a guy's cock behind a tent during music fest while his 10 friends stood around as a cover--watched. Maybe even filmed.

Divya But even then... I never let it get fully public. Never in the open. Never where someone could point and say the word out loud.

Divya That's why no one ever used those names for me--not since school. Randi. Slut. Whore. Those were words I dodged by keeping it hidden.

Divya But what I did today... walking out glazed, dripping, smiling like I'd won something?

Divya That was the first time I let the whole world see what I am.

And you were the one who requested it. Who watched it. Who stood by while it happened.

Harsh

So you don't have a cock count from college...

What about after marriage? Did you finally start keeping score then--like a good wife with a dirty secret?

Divya When Pankaj proposed, I slowed down. When we got married, I promised myself I'd stop. For the first year--I actually did. I kept control. I was faithful

Divya After first year? If I count. In the three years, maybe close to a dozen a year.

Quick fucks. Hotel meets. Construction sites. Car parks.

In the storeroom of a coaching centre. In a locked office cabin after hours. Always hidden always carefull

Divya And now... in an under-construction toilet at a railway station--on the day I was supposed to travel across the country after attending a wedding.

Divya: It was hard to stop.

Divya: There's this ache... in my pussy, in my ass. It never really goes.

Divya: I get wet just thinking about cocks.

Divya: And sucking them? That's not just a habit. That's a fucking craving.

Divya: You already know that, Harsh. I told you... when I was on my knees, worshipping yours and your friends'--remember?

Divya: I didn't need to say a word then. My mouth would have said it all. But still--my mouth and my words both told you well enough... how much I love sucking cocks--in that bathroom.

Harsh: So you did slow down a bit after marriage... huh. But not because you lost the hunger. Just got more careful. More selective. And somehow, through all that, your husband never had a clue?

Harsh: In-laws didn't suspect a thing? No whispers, no close calls? You fucked around, swallowed cum, had your holes used like before... and still kept the good bahu(daughter in law) image intact? How did you manage this?

Divya: You think I was reckless all along? I wasn't.

Divya: After marriage--and even while dating Pankaj--I made rules. Hard lines. Because I was disciplined. Strategic.

Harsh: Tell me that rules

Divya: He studied on the other end of Pune. Far from my college, my mess, my stories. And I kept it that way.

Divya: I didn't let anything from my world bleed into his.

Harsh

How the hell did you manage that?

I'm genuinely interested in this clever, calculating side of you.

Tell me--how did you keep your worlds from colliding?

Divya: If it meant sucking a few extra cocks just to shut mouths--I did it.

Though... yeah, he did hear some rumors.

I denied them, obviously. Couldn't outright call them all lies--so I spun it.

Told him it was just my ex exaggerating shit after our breakup.

You know how boys are...

Especially when the girl they lost used to suck them dry every single night.

I was good--too good.

So the moment I stopped choking on their dicks, they started choking on their egos--and spreading rumors to feel big again

Divya

And if even that didn't work--

I was ready to drop to my knees, look him in the eye, and confess that before him, no man ever understood me.

They just used me, fucked me, and spread rumors.

All while giving Pankaj the most wonderful, guilt-soaked blowjob of his life.

Harsh

You weren't reckless, Divya.

You were calculated. Designed for this.

So tell me--did you ever let any of Pankaj's friends or family fuck you?

. Divya: That's where my rule number two comes

No I never, not once, touched any of his friends. Or cousins. Even at parties, he gave me permission to dance with them. To drink. To loosen up. But I refused.

Divya: Because I knew myself. One drunk touch from the wrong guy--and I'd end up bent over in some corner like a bitch in heat.

Divya: So no--I wasn't dumb. I was horny and smart. That's how I survived this long.

Harsh: See, that's what fucks with my head, Divya. You were careful. Smart. A damn ghost. You fucked behind your husband's back for years and no one caught on.

Harsh: And yet today......

Harsh: You talked filthily in public. You offered a blowjob as a thank-you gift to two young boys you just meet 1 hour back How does someone like you--so controlled, so precise--just throw herself away that fast?

Divya (voice low, steady--like a confession she's been holding for too long)

When my friend told me her wedding was in Guwahati, I smiled harder than I should've.

Not because I love weddings. Not because I missed her.

But because I saw a chance.

where I didn't have to be Pankaj's good little wife.

I booked extra days--three more than needed--just to roam, to breathe, to become her again.

Divya

You know what I hadn't had in four years of marriage?

A gangbang.

Four fucking years. Do you even know what that feels like to someone like me?

Divya

My third year of college, they became weekly thing for me

I was gangbang slut

Five Guys. Sometimes 10.

I'd be bent over in hostel stairwells, used in boys' dorms, passed around in cheap hotel rooms.

I didn't just enjoy it--I craved it.

And then came Pankaj.

And slowly, it stopped.

First it slowed... then died completely after marriage.

Three years of silence.

Divya (looking at Harsh, voice thick with heat and ache)

So this trip? This wasn't just about a wedding.

It was about making up for everything I'd buried.

For five days, I just wanted to be what I really am.

Not someone's wife. Not someone's regret.

Just a woman who needs more than one cock to feel full a lot more

Harsh

That's a nice story, Divya.

But when I first saw you in that waiting room today...

You didn't look like a woman who just spent five days living her fantasy.

You looked desperate.

Hungry. So what happened? You planned your escape. Booked your days. Where did it all go wrong?

So tell me--am I wrong in thinking it didn't go the way you imagined?

How many gangbangs did you actually have?

How many cocks stretched you open in those five days?

And what was the number in your head, hmm?

How badly were you hoping to be used--how many men deep--before your train back to wifey life?

Because the way you dropped to your knees for the first stranger who spoke to you here...

It doesn't look like you lived your fantasy.

It looks like you're still chasing it.

Divya (flat, bitter)

Leave gangbangs--I didn't have a single cock in five days.

Harsh (blinking, then snapping)

What the fuck?

With a body like that? A face like that?

You're telling me you couldn't pull a single gangbang in five days?

Harsh (stepping closer, voice rising)

Not even one cock?

Your face doesn't look like it's lying--but fuck, how do you explain that?

You're a goddamn man-hunter, Divya. You dress for it. You walk like it.

 

You know how to flash just enough skin to make a zipper drop on its own.

And yet--when all you wanted was to drowned in countless cock--you came back dry?

Not one cock between your legs?

Not one load down your throat?

What the hell happened? How the fuck did you fail this badly?

Divya (voice steady, deeply sincere)

You think I didn't try, Harsh? You think my desire vanished overnight? No, it burned deeper every second of those five days. But life isn't always about getting what you want. Sometimes, empathy--just simple human empathy--wins over desire.

Divya (taking a breath, vulnerable but clear)

My friend, Tanvi, asked me to keep my wild side under control while I am in Guwahati for her wedding. You see, Tanvi wasn't like me, not entirely. She had her own wild days, sure, maybe not as intense as mine, but enough to earn a reputation. People love spreading gossip, and while I knew how to protect myself, Tanvi never mastered it. Her past actions haunted her. Now she wanted to start fresh, begin a new life, and leave the rumours far behind. Leave her wild side behind for settled married life in a good family

Divya (softening) She struggled so much to find a groom because of her own past. Every boy's family she met heard whispers of her escapades--some true, some exaggerated--and they backed away. Finally, after years of rejection, she found someone far away, someone whose family couldn't dig deep into her past. I promised her--I gave my word--I wouldn't jeopardize this fragile new start for her.

Divya (eyes honest, sincere)

When I came to Guwahati for her wedding, I was never alone; her in-laws and relatives surrounded me constantly. Not one chance for me to breathe freely, let alone get what I was craving. After the wedding, they insisted I stay with them for three extra days to explore the Northeast. Every dress I wore--each saree, modest or daring--was planned carefully to draw attention, with my cleavage as my best friend. I have always used it to get things--attention, dicks, whatever I craved. But this time, the attention was suffocating. Because it came from uncles, aunties, men who treated me like I was family. I had to play the role of a stylish, modern woman--not a hungry slut.

And yes, Harsh, it drove me insane. Frustrated me--my pussy, my mouth, even my asshole--for all the cocks I couldn't get. After that, I panicked. For me, it felt like starvation.

But seeing Tanvi so happy, watching her start her married life... I couldn't ruin that just to feed my lust..

Because sometimes, caring for someone else's happiness means sacrificing your own--even if it tears you apart inside.

Harsh (challenging, leaning closer)

That's very noble, Divya. But what about Pankaj? Your husband, remember him? Where's your empathy when you're sneaking behind his back?

Divya (hesitates, voice quieter, conflicted)

Pankaj... he's a good husband. He gives me everything--except one cock can't give me everything.

My desires, my needs--they didn't vanish just because I got married. I tried, Harsh. I really did. For the first year, I buried it. I stayed loyal. I let my body starve to keep him happy, to be the wife he deserved.

But living like that... it was killing me slowly.

Does he deserve honesty? Of course he does.

But do I deserve to live like an empty shell just to protect his happiness?

Divya (eyes pleading, deeply conflicted)

I never set out to hurt Pankaj. But I can't deny who I am, Harsh. It's the one selfish choice I allow myself. It might not be fair, but at least it's honest to me.

Divya (firm, concluding)

Empathy doesn't mean perfect choices--it means choosing the lesser hurt. And I chose, me. You might see hypocrisy, but it's survival for me.

Divya (quietly, eyes on Harsh)

You think I'm heartless? because I blamed you without guilt?

Harsh... if saying sorry meant getting on my knees in the middle of that waiting room and sucking your cock in front of everyone--I would've done it.

Not because I'm a show off. Not because I'm shameless.

But because I was wrong. And you didn't deserve that.

And knowing how sharp your mind is... that made me feel even more pathetic. Because you probably saw through me before I even opened my mouth. And you still let me speak. Still let me crawl back with some dignity.

I'm not just sorry, Harsh. I'm grateful.

You didn't just humiliate me. You gave me something I've fantasized about for years.

That public cum face walk?

I've watched those clips on porn sites. Replayed them. Masturbated to them. Wished I was one of those girls walking in public with cum on my face

But no video... no orgasm from rubbing myself after... ever came close to what I felt today.

Because today, you made me feel it. Without touching me. Without even unzipping.

I came harder than I ever have. And it wasn't just physical. That orgasm... it shook my soul.

I betrayed my husband to survive--

but I never stopped caring, Harsh--care didn't vanish when I sinned--it just made every sin heavier.

Harsh (quietly, leaning back with a new calm)

So that's it.

The noble whore routine.

You starved yourself, lied to your husband, fucked in silence... because you still cared.

Touching.

Divya (blinking hard, lips tight, but silent)

Harsh (sits forward, eyes locked on hers)

You want to know what hit me today the most?

It wasn't the way you begged. Or the way your body trembled when I didn't even ask you.

It was realizing you were completely out of control.

Not because you're weak.

But because you were... frustrated. Five days in Guwahati. Dressed like slut. Teasing cocks in your head.

And still... not even one got inside you?

[Divya Thought]

He's not wrong. I dressed for cock. Lived for cock. And got nothing. Nothing.

Harsh (voice colder now)

But Divya, that's not what broke you.

You've survived dry spells before.

You're smart. Calculated. You know when to hold back.

Beat this talk

What broke you today... is that this time, you ran out of lies.

And I saw through every one of them.

Divya (tense, eyes narrowing)

What do you mean?

Harsh (leans in)

You told me about your mother's past.

That she was a prostitute. That you saw things no child should see.

But tell me, Divya--

Did you share that pain because it hurt you...

Or because it was useful?

Divya (shocked)

What?

Harsh (ruthless, unflinching)

Did you weaponize your mother's truth?

To make your sins feel smaller?

To block Pankaj's family from ever digging too deeply into your college life?

To shut down questions with sympathy?

Did you offer her as a shield?

[Divya Thought]

No. No no no--he can't say that. He can't know that.

Harsh (merciless)

You didn't just bury your past.

You camouflaged it.

So that if someone traced your slut trail back to Pune...

They'd stop halfway, out of pity for your "broken home" girl story.

That's not just cheating, Divya.

That's calculated camouflage.

And that's why I don't fully believe this "caring wife" you keep playing.

Divya (voice breaking)

Harsh... please...

Harsh (stone cold)

Don't beg.

Not yet.

You've used your tits, your mouth, even your mother's suffering to survive.

Now I want to see what you offer when there's nothing left to hide behind.

Divya (breathing hard, voice low and furious)

Harsh... you're crossing too many lines.

You're not just questioning me--you're attacking the deepest scars I have.

You wanted truth? I gave it

I didn't use my mother's life to hide mine.

I lived with it. I was shaped by it.

That wasn't a story I used. That was my life.

And I told you because--for some reason--I thought you could handle it.

Not to manipulate you. Not to deflect.

So don't reduce it to some strategy, Harsh.

Don't twist my truth into a weapon

So no--I didn't use her as a shield.

I buried her truth for years.

I let people believe I came from a normal home.

But you asked me why I am the way I am.

And what hurts is this--

I thought telling you would bring understanding.

But all it did was give you one more thing to use against me.

You didn't hear my pain.

You heard an advantage.

And that? That's the part I won't forgive easily.

Harsh (voice lower now, almost gentle)

You're right.

I heard your pain... and I turned it into an argument.

I shouldn't have. That wasn't fair.

And yeah--I crossed a line.

Harsh (steps closer, calm but unrelenting)

But don't get it twisted, Divya.

You think I need forgiveness?

Right now, the one standing here, crying, shaking, holding in years of guilt--

is you.

You say you didn't use your mother's story to cover up anything.

You say you buried it.

So I'll ask you one last time--

And this time... I'm reading your face, not your words.

Harsh (firm, eyes searching hers)

Did you use your mother's story as a shield?

to stop your in-laws, your husband, from digging into your college life?

Yes or no, Divya.

Just say it.

Divya (staring at him, silence... then whispering)

... Yes.

[Divya Thought]

God. I said it. Out loud.

Divya (voice breaking)

Because I had too much to hide.

And I didn't want to lose the only man who ever truly loved me.

Divya (crying now, quietly)

I'm sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry.

Harsh (quiet, watching her cry)

Thank God you said the truth.

Now wipe your tears.

Because I need you to answer something--and I want you to say it without pretending.

You've lived with this split for years.

Wife at home. Slut in secret.

You say you didn't want to lose Pankaj.

But let's be honest...

If you had to choose between two things:

Getting used by countless cocks for the rest of your life--

or

Being with your husband Pankaj, loyal, safe, and untouched--

Which one means more to you?

I already know the answer.

But I want to hear it from your mouth.

Say it, Divya.

Say it honestly.

Because if you do...

I can help you achieve both. At the same time.

Divya (breathing shakily, eyes narrowed at him)

You're a very bad person, Harsh.

You make me say things I don't want to say.

But fine. You want the truth?

Yes--I choose getting used by countless cocks over staying loyal to Pankaj.

I made that decision after one year of trying... truly trying... to be faithful.

I gave him my loyalty. My best.

And it still wasn't enough to kill this part of me.

[Divya Thought]

God forgive me for saying this...

Divya (voice trembling, but clear)

And if you want to hear it raw--

Yes, I'd leave Pankaj for cocks

Because I can't live without it.

Divya (more emotional now)

But don't act like you've figured it all out.

Don't pretend you know him, you have not meet him

You don't know Pankaj.

You don't know how kind he is.

He's not built for this.

I've never even dared to start the conversation with him.

So if you think you have a plan to make him accept me like this--

Fine. Tell me.

But don't get cocky, Harsh.

Because this isn't just about my fantasies anymore.

It's about destroying a man who's never hurt me.

Harsh (smirking slightly, voice smooth)

Destroying him?

No, Divya. You're not destroying anyone.

You've been surviving. Quietly.

But now... I want you to live.

Let me break this down for you.

Case one--he already knows. Maybe not the details, but enough. He senses it. Your distance. The changes. And he doesn't confront you... because he's scared. Or maybe... he likes it that way. Maybe he's stronger than you think.

Case two--he truly doesn't know. And if that's true? Then we don't waste time "confessing." We make him adjust. We turn him into what you need--a cuckold. One who stays loyal, while you live out your filthiest desires.

Harsh (leans closer)

I'll help you, Divya.

I'll help alter his mind until he believes your pleasure is sacred...

even when it comes from ten other cocks at same time

You'll keep your husband.

You'll keep your life.

And you'll never feel guilt again.

Harsh (firm now)

This isn't manipulation.

It's mercy.

I'm offering you a way to have everything, without the shame, without the lies.

I'm doing this as a favor.

Not because I'm kind.

But because I've never seen someone so desperate to be free...

and so scared to admit it.

So what do you say, Divya?

Ready to build that life?

Or do you still want to rot between two cages?

Divya (standing straight, wiping her tears)

You're right.

I've been rotting between two cages.

Lying to him. Lying to myself.

But now? If you can help me live free

I don't want to lie anymore.

Not to protect him.

Not to punish myself.

I want to live the way I'm built.

And if that means choosing cocks over comfort...

Shame over safety...

Then I choose it--with my eyes open.

Divya (quiet, but certain)

You were right about me, Harsh.

All of it.

And I believe you can help me.

Because you're the only one who looked through my filth...

and still saw something worth owning.

Divya (steps closer, breath catching)

So tell me how.

How do I do it?

How do I keep him... and still feed this part of me without guilt?

What do I say?

What do I show him?

What's the first step in turning my husband into a man who lets me be what I really am?

Teach me, Harsh.

I'm ready.

Harsh (cold smile, unmoved)

No, Divya.

You're not ready yet.

Divya (blinks, stunned)

What?

After everything I've told you?

Everything I've done & admitted--publicly, shamelessly, honestly?

What more do you want?

Harsh (calm, cutting)

You've spoken, yes.

You've cried. You've broken. You've chosen cock over your husband.

But words are easy, Divya.

Pain is easy. Guilt is easy.

You've lived in both your whole life.

What you haven't done...

Is surrender without shame.

Own it--not as a broken woman...

But as a proud, deliberate one.

You still speak like you're torn. Like you're asking permission.

Divya (whispers)

Then what am I missing?

Harsh (stepping closer, looking down at her)

Conviction.

I want to see the part of you that doesn't apologize.

The part that doesn't flinch when I say you'll be fucked by countless men and watched by your husband or anyone who cares to see

The part that wants it--not to punish herself, but to enjoy it.

Until I see that version of you...

You're not ready.

Divya (tilting her head, puzzled)

Wait... what are you talking about?

aren't I am already there

Harsh Let me help you analyse this--whether you're ready or not.

That line in the bathroom--

"If something happens in coach B5, I won't hide. I'll suck and fuck cock or cocks wherever I am..."

Was that a lie... or the truth?

Not wishful thinking. Not trying.

I'm asking--did you actually intend to do it? When you said it?

or Until this moment...

Was there ever a part of your mind that truly saw yourself going through with it?

Yes or no.

Divya

No.

That line I said in the bathroom...

It was a lie.

I was weak, Harsh. I was horny.

I wanted to impress you, say the right words...

But I had no real plan to act on it.

And even now--till this very moment--

I didn't have the courage.

Not really.

So yes. I lied.

so now that you truth

Then tell me how.

Divya (pauses, voice barely above a whisper)

How do I turn my husband into a cuckold?

What do I say to him?

How do I start?

What do I show?

Because I want it, Harsh.

I want to fuck freely. I want to be owned, used, seen.

But I don't want to live with guilt anymore.

So tell me...

Please teach me.

Harsh You want to know how?

You want to turn your husband into a cuckold?

Then stop asking questions like a student... and start proving you're worthy of the life you crave.

You've told me the truth.

You've admitted you lied.

You've chosen cock over comfort.

And now... you've finally said it out loud.

But words, Divya?

They mean nothing to me now.

You want me to believe you're ready?

Then don't show me with your mouth.

Show me with your body.

Harsh (leaning in, voice dropping)

Coach B5.

Your assigned seat.

Be a slut there.

Not in secret. Not behind closed curtains.

No hiding.

No guilt.

Flirt with strangers. Tease. Expose. Tempt.

Let men watch. Let them comment. Let them talk. And most importantly let them use you

Harsh (icy tone)

Be bigger than you've ever been.

Be the slut you've only imagined in the dirtiest corners of your mind.

And when you do it--openly, shamelessly, publicly--

Only then will I believe you're ready.

Only then... will I teach you how to keep your husband while being used by others.

Until then?

You're just a wife pretending to be filthy. Now prove me wrong.

Divya (voice hesitant, but eyes fierce)

Do you even understand what you're asking, Harsh?

If I really do what you're saying--act like a shameless slut on a moving train--I won't know where it might lead.

Harsh (eyes cold, mocking smile)

And there's that fake fear again.

Two days, Divya--that's all it is. Two days of being openly filthy.

You're scared of that?

Think bigger.

If you prove yourself now, if you become what you secretly crave...

It won't just be these two days.

You'll have it for life.

Your slutty little dreams--every cock, every fantasy--they'll all be yours.

Divya (swallowing, voice trembling slightly but slutty tone surfacing)

Every cock? Every fantasy?

Harsh (leaning in, voice dropping, dangerously seductive)

Every. Single. Cock.

You'll suck strangers in front of your husband.

You'll beg men to fuck you, to feed you, to treat you like the whore you truly are.

Not just for two days, Divya--

Forever.

Divya (breathing heavily, visibly excited yet scared)

But you won't even be on this train, Harsh.

You won't see if I truly go through with it or not.

Harsh (eyes dark with anticipation, satisfied smirk)

Good.

Don't disappoint me, Divya.

Make sure your slutty reputation reaches me loud and clear.

Because I'll be asking you about every filthy detail the moment you reach Mumbai.

And you know better than anyone--

You can't lie to me.

I'll hear exactly how many strangers fucked your pussy, exactly how you begged them to breed you like a shameless whore...

 

From your own mouth.

Divya (breathing deeply, voice sultry, defiant)

Then prepare yourself, Harsh.

Because the story I tell you once I reach Mumbai won't just shock you--

It'll make you wish you'd never missed this journey.

when I reach Mumbai, I'll tell you everything--

Every cock, every filthy thing I've done in these forty-nine hours--so you'll know I'm ready.

Then you'll have no choice but to teach me exactly how to turn my husband into a cuckold.

Harsh (smiling dangerously, voice firm)

We'll see, Divya.

Go become the slut you claim you are.

(Harsh glances at the digital announcement board. The Mumbai LTT Express flashes on the screen, indicating passengers should move to their respective coach positions.)

Harsh (calmly authoritative, nodding toward the platform)

Your train's boarding, Divya.

You better move to your position.

Your train's boarding, Divya. Time to walk.

And don't drop the innocent act. That sweet smile, that soft voice, that wife-next-door look? Keep all of it.

Let them call you sanskari while their eyes undress you. Let them call you randi, slut, cumdump when they jerk off thinking about you later.

But you don't run from those words anymore.

You don't wear silence for safety--you wear it for power.

Yes, you'll still protect your name from the cocks you suck... not to stay clean, but to make it filthier.

Because when they can't say it out loud, it drives them mad.

You'll act slut, whore, cocksucker, and wear this words in your head like a crown--own it, love it, fucking ache for it.

But on the outside? You'll stay untouchable.

You'll make them doubt their own eyes.

Because there's nothing more dangerous than a woman who looks like a saint... and fucks like a cum-starved street bitch.

Divya (confused, looking around)You're right, Harsh.

I've played this game for years--look like a saint, fuck like a slut.

In the bathroom, I dined myself a cocksucker. Then sugar coated it as cockworshiper.

I've done that dance a thousand times.

But not anymore.

From now on, I'll still protect my name--but only to make the filth taste sweeter.

I'll let them call me slut, randi, cumrag behind my back--while I walk past with a smile they can't decode.

I'll make them question if I'm holy or just freshly fucked.

And I'll own every name they whisper... prove each one with my body... and still deny it with a smile.

Thank you, Harsh... for reminding me how hot it is to be doubted while dripping with proof.

btw... you're not coming along? Coming along

Harsh (eyes intense, slight smile playing on his lips)

No. This is your journey now, Divya.

I've set the stage--but you're the star.

You take the lead from here. Prove yourself.

Make me proud.

Divya

Give me your number. I'm not letting this end on a platform.

(They exchange numbers )

(Divya pauses, swallowing the sudden spike of excitement and nerves. Slowly, confidently, she turns and moves toward the platform. Harsh watches from behind, observing intently.)

[Divya thought] This is it... No turning back.

(As Divya walks along the crowded platform towards her displayed coach position, every pair of eyes is drawn toward her. Her bold red dress, clinging perfectly to her curves, screams for attention far louder than the subtle white ever did. Every step makes her ample cleavage bounce gently, commanding stares from curious men and judgmental women alike. Her shapely thighs shift provocatively beneath the tight fabric, amplifying her aura of sexual invitation.)

(She wears a confidently slutty smile now--partially genuine, partially forced by the intoxicating confidence Harsh has drilled into her. Her walk is deliberately seductive, each sway of her hips intentional, each step announcing her newly embraced boldness. The eyes following her body feed her growing excitement, sending a warm pulse between her thighs.)

[Divya thought] Let them stare... let them imagine. I'm done hiding.

(Her heartbeat quickens as the realization fully sinks in. Her smile deepens, the thrill unmistakable. She thinks briefly about the Assam flood, about how that twist of fate redirected her onto this journey. What initially felt like inconvenience now feels like destiny.)

[Divya thought] This is going to be the best decision of my life. No regrets. No holding back.

(Reaching her assigned coach position, she stops, striking a casual but sexually provocative stance. She meets the gazes openly now, invitingly, fully committed to the path ahead.)

Author's Note

I know some of you were expecting more "action" in this chapter. You got plenty of that in Part 1. But this installment? This was all about Divya's character build-up--the psychological layers, the emotional unraveling, and the confessions that had to happen before she could fully become who she's meant to be in the chapters ahead.

Trust me--every filthy moment you crave is coming. But before we break her further, we had to understand what's already broken.

And for those wondering about Divya's wild college life? Yes--I've planned it. I've even started writing it. But that tale will only come after this series is complete. One story at a time. One downfall at a time.

If you made it this far, do me a favor--rate the story, drop a comment, and let me know what you think. It's your feedback that keeps me going--and your support that makes the next chapter filthier.

Rate the story «My Wild Train Journey Ch. 02»

📥 download as: txt  fb2  epub    or    print
Leave comments - we pay for them!

There are no comments yet - be the first to add one!

Add new comment


Our AI advises

You need to log in so that our AI can start recommending suitable works that you will definitely like.