Locker Room ki Gandi Asliyat

IPL final ka jashn bahar dhoom se mach raha tha—fireworks phat rahe the stadium ke upar, lekin Wankhede ke locker room mein, woh dim, bhap bhari andhera, asli aag jal rahi thi. Virat Kohli, chase ka badshah, paseene se tar-batar, jeet ka nasha chadha hua, apni jersey utaar raha tha—woh chiseled abs chamak rahe the fluorescent lights ke neeche, jaise diamond cut kar ke rakha ho. Hardik Pandya, all-rounder ka woh saala cocky hero, lockers ke against tikka hua, towel kamar par low, uski kaali chamdi abhi bhi match ki garmi se laal, jaise bol rahi ho, Aa le, faad le. Team ke baaki chutiye celebrations ke liye nikal gaye the, sirf yeh dono reh gaye—hawa paseene, liniment, aur chhupe hue bhookh ki boo se bhari. Mahino se yeh tension—dugout mein chupke nazrein, "bro hugs" jo zyada der tak chipakte, jaise boundary cross kar gayi ho—ab yeh tootne wala tha, jaise ek Yorker ball jo wicket udaa de.

Hardik ne Virat ki nazar pakdi, smirk karte hue towel adjust kiya, halka sa neeche gira diya taaki woh V-line dikh jaaye, seedhe us mota, kaala khazane ki taraf. "Captain sahab, aap toh tense lag rahe ho... unwind karwa doon? Ya phir... main hi unwind ho jaaun aapke liye?" Uski awaaz low, gravelly, Mumbai wala swag bhara, jaise ek bouncer maar raha ho jo catch na ho. Virat ki nazar neeche giri, us bulge par lock—bada, kaala, aur already mota hota ja raha towel ke neeche, jaise ek full toss wait kar raha ho smash hone ko. "Fuck, Hardik... saala tu is monster ko poori season chhupa raha tha? Yeh toh... helmet ke peechhe se bhi dikh raha tha, lekin ab dekh, mera bat ready hai isko hit karne ko." Virat kareeb aaya, space bijli se bhara, haath Hardik ki thigh se guzra—accidental nahi, jaan boojh ke, woh muscle ko mehsoos karte hue. Hardik hasa, ganda aur deep: "Chhupana? Arre captain, bas wait kar raha tha tu beg karega mere is big black lund ke liye. Ya phir... tu mera personal bowler ban jaa, bowl kar mera wicket gira de."

Aur koi baat nahi. Virat ghutno par gir pada thande tile par, door se cheers ki goonj mit gayi jaise fade out, towel kheencha ek jhatke mein. Wahaan tha—Hardik ka lund, ek mota, veiny janwar, nau inch ka kaala mota khamba, halka sa upar ki taraf mudda, sir pehle se pre-cum se chamak raha, jaise bol raha ho, Le, faad dalunga teri zubaan. "Jesus, yeh toh fucking huge hai, saale... kitna mota, jaise stump hi tod dega mera muh," Virat growl kiya, muh mein paani bhar aaya, ek haath base par lapeta—fingers barely mil rahe the—doosre haath se woh bhari, smooth balls ko dabaya. Hardik groan kiya, ungliyan Virat ke messy baalon mein phansai: "Chus le, Virat... sapne mein dekhta tha tera yeh sundar muh mere black lund ke around lapet te. Ya phir... yeh tera mouth guard hai ab, protect kar mera bat."

Virat ne jhat se muh khola, zubaan bahar nikali underside se balls tak trace karte hue, woh namkeen, musky taste—paseene aur skin ka mix—zubaan par phail gaya, jaise ek perfect cover drive ka swaad. "Mmm... jeet jaisa taste hai, saale... ab le, mera mouth tera crease hai." Honth failaye, sir ko andar liya, zor se chusa, cheeks hollow kar ke, jaise vacuum bana diya ho. Hardik ki kamar uchal gayi, hiss nikal gaya: "Fuck haan... deeper, tu greedy saala randi. Yeh lund tera hai ab, swallow kar poora." Virat ne jaw relax kiya, mota shaft neeche dhakela, halka sa gag hua jaise stretch ho raha ho, veins zubaan se ragad rahe the. Slow bob shuru, geela slurping sound, thook chin se tapak raha, pre-cum se mix. Free haath se stroke kiya jo muh mein na aaye, base par twist, balls ko roll kiya gently, unki tightness mehsoos karte hue. "God, tu itna mota hai... mera muh bhar raha hai jaise ek whore ka, saale... lekin aur chahiye, yeh taste... addiction hai." Virat gaspa between deep-throats, aankhein pani se bhari lekin Hardik par lock, begging jaise. Hardik ne shallow thrusts diye, face-fuck shuru: "Le poora, captain... choke kar mere big black lund par—haan, bilkul aise, tu ganda saala bitch, mera bat swing kar raha hai tere muh mein."

Minutes dhundhla gaye wet sucks aur guttural moans ki haze mein, Virat ka khud ka lund shorts mein tight, wet spot bana diya leak se. Lekin aur chahiye tha—har inch poojna tha. "Ghuma, saale," Virat ne command kiya, awaaz bhari, pop ke saath bahar nikala, saliva ke dhage honthon se lund tak jud gaye. Hardik ne wicked grin kiya, ghuma aur locker ke against tik gaya, gaand baahar—gol, tight, kaali cheeks, spread karne ko bol rahi. "Meri gaand bhi khaega? Filthy saala harami." Virat bhookhe jaise daived, haathon se cheeks failaye, tight puckered hole expose—woh musky, paseene bhari boo, earthy flavor. Chehra daba diya, zubaan flat lapki taint se rim tak, taste explode zubaan par, jaise ek reverse sweep ka thrill. "Fuck, Hardik... teri gaand itni achi taste karti hai... match ke paseene se bhari, jaise mera secret sixer." Rim kiya paagalpan se, zubaan circle mein ghumai phir andar spear, wet probing thrusts se hole ko fuck kiya, naak crack mein daba, woh raw musk inhale karte hue. Hardik peechhe dhakela, grind kiya Virat ke chehre par, moan porn star jaisa: "Haan, kha yeh hole, Virat... zubaan se faad mera ass deeper, tu nasty saala slut. Geela kar de mera wicket tere liye."

Virat ka control toot gaya jaise run out. Utha, shorts utare, khud ka mota lund bahar—veiny aur hard, lekin Hardik ke monster ke saamne chhota. Lube team kit se—hamesha "massage" ke liye taiyaar—geela kiya, tip ko spit-shined hole par ragda. "Ab chodunga yeh tight gaand... tujhe mera banaunga, saale." Ek haath Hardik ki kamar par, doosra guide, thrust—slow pehle, ring vice jaise clench kiya. "Shit... itni tight... le mera lund, Hardik, jaise boundary cross kar." Hardik arched, sharp cry: "Thok mujhe, Virat! Faad de mera ass is lund se—harder, tu harami saala!" Virat ne jawab diya, kamar aage dhakeli, balls-deep, skin slap echo jaise thunder. Rough fuck, be-rehem—bahar tip tak, phir slam, angle prostate hit karne ko. Hardik ka hole milk kar raha tha, garam velvet, Virat pahuncha around, Hardik ka massive lund hilaya time mein. "Teri gaand mujhe pakad rahi hai jaise randi... jaldi bharunga tujhe." Paseena ugalta, bodies geeli, grunts mix filthy pleas: "Fuck haan... deeper... own this black ass, saale... mera lund ragad aur!"

Pace paagal ho gaya—Virat ke thrusts irregular, balls tight. "Cum karne wala hoon... kahaan chahiye?" Hardik panted, "Mere muh mein... feed kar mera load, captain sahab." Virat bahar nikala wet pop se, ghumaya Hardik ko, lund fist kiya furious. Hardik ghutno par, muh khula wide, zubaan bahar beggar jaisa. Virat phat gaya—mote, garam cum ke dhage zubaan par paint, muh bhar diya, chin se tapka. "Pi le, slut... jeet ka taste le." Hardik gulp kiya greedy, aankhein lust se glazed, lekin Virat khatam nahi. "Ab tera turn—cum de mujhe." Locker par dhakela Hardik ko, neeche jhuka us big black lund muh mein liya phir, chusa voraciously, deep-throat girth ko jaise swallow. Hardik bucked, "Fuck... Virat... tera muh... blow karne wala!" Phat gaya, Virat ke muh mein salty, creamy spurts—mota aur endless, corners se overflow.

Virat bahar nikala, muh bhara, utha Hardik ki nazar mile. Honth crash messy, cum-swapping kiss mein—Virat ne load thook diya Hardik ke eager muh mein, unka seed mix ganda exchange mein. Zubaanen ladhi bitter-salty mess par, chin se tapka, jab tak dono ne piya, alag hue cum ke dhagon se jud gaye. "Fucking hell... tu mera hai ab, saale," Virat raspa, Hardik ke lip se drop chaata. Hardik smirk, thaka lekin smug: "Shower mein round two? Meri gaand abhi bhi bhookhi hai... ya phir tu mera lund dobara bowl karega?"

Locker room sex aur paseene ki boo se sadi thi—cum aur conquest mein sila raaz, unka bandhan gandi devotion mein bana.

Locker Room ki Gandi Asliyat