I met Priya at the airport when she flew in from Mumbai to crash with us for two weeks. My girlfriend Anjali had been talking about her college roommate nonstop, but nothing prepared me for the real thing. Priya was all curves and dark eyes, wearing a tight salwar kameez that hugged her heavy tits and round ass like it was painted on. Anjali kissed me hello and introduced us, but Priya's handshake lingered, her fingers squeezing mine just a second too long.
That first night we all drank too much wine. Anjali passed out early on the couch, leaving Priya and me alone in the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, sipping her glass, and told me straight up how horny she got on long flights. "I finger myself in the bathroom just thinking about getting fucked hard," she said, voice low and filthy. My cock twitched in my jeans. I told her Anjali was a light sleeper but I didn't give a shit right then. Priya dropped to her knees, unzipped me, and swallowed my dick like she'd been starving for it. Her tongue worked the head while she stroked the shaft, spit dripping down my balls. I grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth until I shot down her throat, and she swallowed every drop without spilling.
The next morning Anjali went to work, and Priya was waiting in our bed wearing nothing but a thin nightie. She spread her legs and showed me her shaved Indian pussy, already wet and glistening. "Come eat this cunt before your girlfriend gets home," she ordered. I buried my face between her thick thighs, licking her swollen clit and tongue-fucking her tight hole until she came hard, thighs clamping my head. Then she pushed me on my back and rode my cock, bouncing those big brown tits in my face while she ground down on every inch. Her pussy was hot and slick, gripping me like a fist. I flipped her over, slammed into her from behind, and pounded that ass until she screamed into the pillow. We fucked raw, no condom, and I filled her up twice before Anjali texted she was on her way.
Every day after that became a dirty secret. Priya would text me nudes from the guest room while Anjali showered, pictures of her fingers spreading her pussy lips or her ass cheeks pulled apart. When Anjali left for yoga one afternoon, Priya bent over the kitchen table and begged me to fuck her ass. I spit on her hole, worked two fingers in, then shoved my cock deep. She pushed back, moaning like a whore, telling me how much better my dick felt than her ex's. I railed her until her legs shook, then pulled out and made her suck me clean before cumming all over her tongue.
The weekend Anjali suggested the three of us watch a movie. Halfway through, Priya's hand slid under the blanket and into my lap, stroking me slow while Anjali sat right there. Later that night, after Anjali fell asleep, Priya snuck into our room. She climbed on top of me while Anjali lay beside us, and we fucked slow and quiet at first, then harder when she got bold. Anjali stirred but didn't wake, and the risk made Priya's pussy clench tighter around me. I came inside her again, and she stayed there with my cum leaking out until we heard Anjali's breathing change.
By the end of the second week we had fucked in every room. Priya let me tie her wrists with her dupatta and spank her ass red while I pounded her from behind. She rode my face until I couldn't breathe, then sat on my cock and milked another load out of me. On her last night she woke Anjali up on purpose, pretending it was an accident, and the three of us ended up tangled together. Anjali was surprised at first but got wet fast when she saw Priya sucking my cock. We took turns fucking both of them, switching holes, filling mouths and pussies until the sheets were soaked.
Priya flew back the next morning with my cum still inside her. Anjali never found out the full truth, but every time she mentions her friend now I get hard remembering how Priya begged for it raw and dirty, over and over, like the perfect secret slut.
