# Top1 in India ( 06/01/2026) # Top2 in India (05/01/2026 ) # Top7 in India (11,12/01/2026) # Top8 in India (11/01/2026) This is a short village story from 1980's era.. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝟏𝟖+) When twenty-year-old Gauri, a naive and soft-spoken village girl, suddenly found herself tied in marriage to Madhav, a twenty-five-year-old shy and gentle man who spent most his days from morning to evening working in the fields, neither of them knew where or how to begin. They were two inexperienced souls, bound by a relationship they didn't fully understand. Gauri had never imagined what kind of husband she wanted, nor had she ever dreamed of love the way stories described it. And Madhav? He was far too absorbed in his farm and his duty toward his widowed mother to think about marriage or women. His life began and ended with the soil beneath his feet and the responsibilities on his shoulders. Two strangers, unaware of love's language, now share the same roof. But destiny had other plans because somewhere in Madhav's past still lived a woman. The woman who once dreamed of a future with him. And when fate decides to bring that past back into his present,will time heal what love could not or will the past come knocking on the door of their fragile new beginning?

Her husband left after their wedding night and never returned. Now the only person she isn't allowed to love... is the one she's falling for... Will she fight her heart, or surrender to fate? ✦Indian Erotica ✦Village Romance ✦Taboo Love ✦Second Chance Romance ✦Abandoned Wife ✦Healing

Absolute Desi Smut ⚠️‼️ My personal favourite Vanya is a saree tease. Every evening, she comes home from work in a fresh saree-chiffon, net, silk, sheer, always hugging her hips just right. She does it to provoke her husband, Riaan, who works from home, watching her glide through their penthouse like temptation wrapped in elegance. But one night, Riaan calls her bluff. He shuts his laptop, locks the bedroom door, and says in that deep, steady voice: "From now on, you don't get to take off your saree unless I tell you. And when you do... you'll strip for me. Slowly. Like the needy little whore, you really are underneath all that drape." Thus begins their new nightly ritual: Strip & Serve.

(ADULTS ONLY) He was older. Divorced. Hot. Had abs that could make a saree fall off- And I wanted him to take my virginity while I was wearing one. He used to tutor me in maths-strict, sharp, and so damn serious. But now, all I could think about was how his hands would feel on my waist, how his mouth would taste on my skin. I lifted my saree. Pulled up my underskirt. His mouth dropped when he saw my bald, dripping pussy. "Sohini," he moaned-his voice nothing like the one that used to explain equations.

She was his brother's bride... and he was everything she wasn't supposed to want. Alone in a house that felt cold and distant, Ananya never expected to feel heat, fire, and desire from the man she should've only called "brother-in-law." But Kabir... he didn't wait for permission. One stormy night, one stolen moment, and everything changed. "Ananya... if I kiss you once, I won't be able to stop." *"Kabir... we shouldn't..." she whispered, breathless. "I don't care. You're mine, and I'll claim you tonight." Forbidden touches, lingering glances, and a fire that neither could resist-this is a story of love, lust, and a temptation too strong to deny. A taboo romance with heart-pounding passion, stolen nights, and desire that refuses to stay hidden. Dare to indulge.

"She was the innocent bride the world admired... and the devil queen the underworld feared".

Reyansh Malhotra doesn't ask. He takes. The ruthless mafia king with a short fuse and a bloodstained throne, he's feared across the city - until one stolen moment in a dim basement cage halts his world. She wasn't meant to be there. She wasn't meant to survive. And she definitely wasn't meant to slap him. Ira Sharma is a quiet first-year psychology student - thoughtful, composed, and nothing like the desperate women he's used to owning. Trapped in his world by fate, she doesn't flinch when others tremble. She reads his silence like a book and challenges his rage with calm defiance. "There are men who do not beg. And there are women who make them." But Reyansh is a man forged in violence - and Ira, a girl haunted by her own secrets. As their worlds collide in a twisted dance of danger, desire, and slow-burning obsession, lines blur between protector and predator, prisoner and queen. And it all starts with a man who was never meant to be tempted. In a world ruled by power, she becomes his only weakness. But can calm ever survive the fire? It's more of a love story than a mafia story. Cover By: Krishnasakhii02

# Book 1 of the Shattered Hearts & Souls Series The College Era where every heartbeat has a secret. Everyone thought college would be freedom. For three girls, it became a battlefield. One hides bruises beneath her bridal bangles. One runs faster every night, but fear still finds her. One smiles on magazine covers while breaking behind closed doors. In a campus filled with laughter, deadlines, and hostel chaos- silence becomes their loudest scream. This isn't a story about prom nights. This is about survival, sisterhood, and the courage to keep walking even when the world keeps shattering them.

Jaxiel-her hot, married neighbor. Yes, she bought him. For a night. From his wife. "He's all yours," Livia said, tossing her curls like a bored queen. Heavily pregnant and smug, she strutted out of the bedroom like a proud pimp, not looking back. The door clicked shut. Silence. "This isn't the first time, is it?" Starr asked, her eyes locked on the shirtless man standing in front of her. His jeans hung loose on his hips, belt already undone. "No," Jaxiel said simply, a bitter laugh following his answer. He stepped closer-close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his skin. His hand slid between her thighs, slow and certain, fingers tracing the soaked fabric of her panties. "You're wet already?" She didn't respond. "Do you really like it?" she asked instead, voice steady, detached. That question stopped him. He blinked, like no one had ever dared ask him that before. Because no one had. Not Livia. Not the women. Not even himself. He didn't answer either. Then-he kissed her. No warning. No build-up. Just mouth on mouth, breath on breath. His fingers slipped past the fabric, inside her. She gasped against his lips, but didn't pull away. He explored her with slow, aching strokes-like he was trying to forget who he was. Who she was. What this was. For the first time, he wasn't just being used. And for the first time, she didn't feel like using.