Archana's Erotic Night with the Lorry Cleaner

Introduction

My name is Archana, 25 years old, with 34-28-34 measurements, my fair skin glowing even in the rain. I work as a bank officer near Gokavaram, a village close to Rajahmundry. Outwardly, I smile and chat with everyone, but inside, my heart is scarred by pain. A week ago, my ex-boyfriend married another woman—someone deemed "suitable" by his caste. His smile, no longer meant for me, drowns my heart in darkness. At the bank, I joke around, but at night, tears flood my eyes.

Into the Rain

This Wednesday night at 8:47 PM, Gokavaram was drenched in a stormy downpour. Planning to visit Rajahmundry (my hometown) for the weekend, I packed my bag and set out. I walked 3 kilometers on a muddy road to the highway bus stop, each step heavy, my feet sinking into the mud. The rain soaked me, my saree clinging to my body, revealing the curves of my breasts, waist, and hips. By the time I reached the bus stop, the shelter's roof was leaking, and the last bus disappeared into the distance.

The road was empty, flanked by vast rural fields, with a distant bus stop light flickering in the dark. Then, I saw an old lorry, its paint faded, windows grimy. In the cabin sat an 18-year-old lorry cleaner—dusky skin, strong arms from village labor, oh, that body! The driver had gone to town for a mechanic. Shivering in the cold, I approached the window. "Can I sit inside until the rain stops, brother?" I asked, my voice trembling. He silently shifted, making space on the seat, his eyes showing respect mixed with a hint of surprise.

I climbed in, the door creaking shut. The seat was warm from his body, the rain drumming on the roof. He didn't look at me or ask anything—silence, but that silence carried a restless energy. Something stirred in my heart, but I suppressed it and sat still.

The Spark of Desire

My inner wounds—my ex's marriage, his new "pure" wife, my parents' caste disputes—consumed my mind. In this dark cabin, with this stranger, a rebellion stirred in my heart. I wanted to throw off my past, my pain, and society's rules. I knew it wasn't right, but desire pulled me in.

The rain pounded outside like a heartbeat, but in the cabin, my breaths were loud. He—nameless, unimportant—sat on the small cloth seat, water dripping from my saree onto the floor. My breasts were visible through the wet saree, my nipples hard from the cold. He averted his eyes, but I noticed a flicker of interest. I wondered—should I be this bold? My heart screamed, "Yes."

"When will this rain stop?" I murmured softly, my voice tinged with desire. He nodded, "Don't know, sister. It might rain all night," his voice rough but hesitant. I laughed, water dripping from my hair onto the lorry floor. "Don't call me sister, brother, I'm not that old," I teased, leaning forward, my breasts swaying gently before his eyes. Though he looked away, I knew his interest wasn't fading.

Desire Ignites

My desire grew stronger. This village boy, a lorry cleaner from a caste my family would never accept—that was what thrilled me. I loosened my saree, letting my waist show subtly.

"Do you always sit alone in this lorry, brother?" I asked, my voice soft, laced with curiosity. He looked at me, a spark in his eyes. "Sometimes, when the driver goes to town," he said, his gaze lingering on my breasts for a moment.

I smiled, moving closer, my thigh brushing his softly. "Does it get boring alone?" I whispered, placing my hand on his elbow, his skin warm and rough. "Why are you… doing this?" he stammered, but his eyes betrayed growing interest. I let my saree slip further, my breasts peeking through my blouse. "Why not, brother? Your eyes are on my pussy, aren't they?" I said shamelessly, my heart racing.

I placed his hand on my breast, "Touch it, boy, you want to, don't you?" I whispered. He hesitated, then softly squeezed my breast, my nipples hardening. My pussy grew wet, and I moaned, "Harder, brother," urging him on. I slid my hand under his lungi, grabbing his 8-inch cock—hard, hot, and thick like a village boy's. "Boy, put this cock in my mouth," I whispered, pulling his lungi off.

Pussy and Cock Play

I leaned down, taking his 8-inch cock.precise into my mouth, the tip rubbing against my tongue, its sweaty, earthy taste arousing me. I sucked slowly, my lips wrapping around it, taking it deep. "Ahh, brother, your cock is hitting my throat," I moaned, gripping his hips and squeezing. He groaned, "Sister, your mouth is heaven," grabbing my hair and thrusting his cock harder. I took it deep, my tongue teasing the tip, his cock growing slick in my mouth.

He pulled me up, "I want to lick your pussy, sister," he whispered. I lifted my saree, slid down my panties, and lay back on the seat. He dove between my thighs, his tongue licking my pussy lips, my juices flowing into his mouth. "Boy, fuck my pussy with your tongue," I screamed, as he sucked my clit and slid his tongue inside. My pussy was wet and sticky, and I gripped his hair, pressing him harder. "Ahh, brother, your mouth is tearing my pussy apart," I cried.

Pussy Fucking

He stood, parting my thighs, rubbing his 8-inch cock against my pussy lips. "Now I'll fuck your pussy, sister," he whispered, easing an inch inside. My pussy gripped his cock tightly, the depth making me tremble.

He moved slowly, rubbing my clit, driving me wild. "Boy, fuck my pussy with your cock," I screamed, as he grabbed my waist and started thrusting. The cabin creaked, the rain drowning our moans.

I gripped his hips, "Fuck me deeper, brother," I cried. He thrust steadily, my breasts bouncing against his chest. I bit his neck, "Your cock is fucking my pussy so hard," I whispered. He slid his hands under my hips, lifting me, pushing one inch, then two, deeper. My pussy juices soaked his cock, my body trembling. "Ahh, brother, your cock is showing me heaven," I screamed. He thrust deeper, rubbing every inch of my pussy, drowning me in pleasure.

Release of Juices

He fucked relentlessly, his cock thrusting deep, our breaths quickening. "Your pussy is so tight, sister," he groaned, delighted. I laughed, "Boy, your 8-inch cock is tearing my pussy apart, cum inside," I screamed. He thrust harder, releasing a drop, then a flood of cum inside my pussy, the warm stream soaking my body.

I gripped his arms, "Harder, brother," I screamed, my pussy clenching his cock. We collapsed on the seat, breathless, his cock still inside, warm cum filling me. I adjusted my saree and looked at him. He smiled shyly, "I didn't expect you to be a bank officer," he said. I laughed, "I didn't expect your 8-inch cock to fuck my pussy so hard, brother," I teased. It was 11:00 PM, our bodies still hot.

Night Play

Our bodies rested briefly, but my pussy craved more pleasure. At 1:00 AM, as the rain eased, I pulled him close. "Brother, fuck my pussy again," I whispered. He smiled, turned me around, and lifted my hips. Pulling up my saree, he rubbed his 8-inch cock against my pussy from behind. "Sister, I've never fucked like this," he groaned, thrusting inside with the first stroke.

I leaned forward, "Fuck me hard, my pussy is dripping," I screamed. He grabbed my hips, thrusting fast, my breasts bouncing against the lorry wall. My pussy juices soaked his cock. "Ahh, brother, your cock is tearing my pussy apart," I screamed. After 15 minutes of hard fucking, he came inside my pussy, and I climaxed again, my body trembling. It was 2:30 AM, and we collapsed, spent.

Pleasure Before Dawn

At 3:30 AM, the rain slowed, and the lorry grew colder. I moved closer, "Brother, let's fuck again to warm up," I laughed. He smiled, lifting me onto him, my breasts before his face. I grabbed his cock, rubbed it against my pussy, and slid it inside. "Sister, your pussy grips my cock so tight," he groaned.

I moved up and down, "Your cock needs to stay deep in my pussy," I screamed. He squeezed my breasts, grabbed my waist, and thrust hard. My pussy melted around his cock, the play lasting 20 minutes. Finally, he came inside my pussy, and I drowned in pleasure again, "Brother, your cock pleasured my pussy all night," I said. It was 4:00 AM.

Rajahmundry Bus

At 4:00 AM, the rain stopped, and though our bodies were warm, the cold stirred me. I adjusted my saree and looked at him. "Brother, this night will stay in my heart," I smiled.

He smiled shyly, "Going to Rajahmundry, sister?" he asked. I said yes and walked to the bus stop. At 4:15 AM, the Rajahmundry bus arrived. I boarded, sat by the window, and looked back at the lorry. My body still trembled from his touch, my pussy recalling the night's pleasure. Heading to my home in Rajahmundry, this secret stays locked in my heart.