Me, Mrs Chopra & Ranade – A parking lot fuck story
deep cleavage, editor's picks, slut

Hey all, I am here today with a story of power and position. I moved to Pune for work. I made friends in my society through my art, selling custom portraits and sometimes giving them away for free for networking. One day, I got a chance to draw a portrait for police sub-inspector Manohar Ranade. He was extremely thankful, and I became good friends with him. Ranade was a corrupt junior inspector in South Pune. Drinking, gambling, extortion, etc., were like afternoon tea for him. He still had some respect and terror in the town. This made him a powerful ally to have on one’s side. He used to do a politician’s bidding, which gave him societal power that was way above his pay grade. He lived in a penthouse bungalow with a stunning wife and two kids. I met Ranade at an Independence Day celebration and instantly got into his good books. A bit of flattery and a quick portrait of him riding a bullet did the trick. After that, we started catching up for drinks and parties. He used to allow me to tag along for his night patrols and extortion visits. We used to travel in his police jeep, drinking cheap rum. Ranade was a 5.10-foot-average-looking man with red eyes, pertaining to his constant alcohol consumption. He had a pot belly, carved biceps, and a bushy moustache. If not for the uniform, Ranade would make a perfect goon. Ranade, deeply influenced by an old astrologer, adorned himself with multiple rings and heavy pendants. A bold scorpion tattoo marked his hairy chest, prominently visible through his partly unbuttoned shirt. One fine night, I went to his police station for a favour. It was a secluded old building with barely anything around. Just a couple of tea and cigarette vendors. I got off my bike and entered the station. The junior constables greeted me with a salute. And she told me that Ranade was near the jail block. I stepped into the station; it was a typical worn-out interior with 4-5 wooden tables for taking complaints. However, all of them were empty. It looked like there was a party in the jail block. Proceeding towards the jail block, I heard a lot of hooting sounds from fellow policemen. The door to the jail area was open, and I could see a lot of cops in front of one particular cell. I could hear their hooting. More like cheering. “Ranade…Ranade…Ranade…Ranade” A little more steps and pushing the crowd apart, I saw a jail cell open with the most erotic spectacle. I got an instant hard-on, which was uncontrollable. In the cell lay a jute mat on the floor, on which lay a brown-skinned woman, naked till her thighs. Her saree was pulled up to her stomach. Her legs spread, and her eyes stared at the ceiling. Her Mangalsutra was in her mouth,, and her teeth were quenching it. On top of her humping like a mad dog laid Constable Ranade, fucking the crap out of her. His pants pulled down to his thighs, just enough for his cock to plunge into the woman’s cunt. His hands pinned the woman’s wrists on either side. She was moaning with humming sounds, and her body jerked with Ranade’s every push. Groaning loudly and his belt buckle making a tinkling sound with each shove, Ranade was devouring the woman like crazy. The woman was writhing in ecstasy, and I was almost sure that she was smiling. Ranade panted and growled, “44, 45…46…” The crowd chimed in, “47, 48, 49… and 50. Hooray.” With the count of 50, Ranade thumped his crotch furiously on the woman’s cunt and stayed in. His final groan echoed in the cell, lost in the hooting of fellow officers. He cum hard inside that woman and sighed heavily between her breasts. A few seconds later, he got up on his knees, pulled out the condom from his cock, and slipped it under the woman’s blouse. The cum is oozing out of it. Ranade buckled his pants up and shouted, “Now get back to work, you assholes. We are done here. Someone get Mrs. Waghmore an auto.” Everyone dispersed. A young police officer walked up to the woman. She was now tying her hair back and adjusting the messed-up saree. She looked like she belonged to a decent household. She had an average waist, a massive breast, and an aunty-ass. Ranade walked up to me and said, “Hey, artist, how come you are here so late today?” I said, “I just had some work and thought I would say hello to you. That was some dirty play before, Ranade, sir.” Ranade chuckled, “Oh, Mrs Waghmore? Her husband worked in the electricity department and was caught with a prostitute. I just called up Mrs. Waghmore and made a deal to get him out of jail. Win-win! She gets her husband; I get pussy, haha. A couple of times, she whispered to me to go harder.” His words gave me chills and a boner. Which I positively believed he saw but ignored. I responded, “Power gets pussy, apparently.” Ranade nodded. “Well, Ranade gets the pussy, haha. So what brings you here?” I said, “Nothing much, really. I wanted to invite you to a small exhibition I am putting up. A few paintings and sculptures. Drop by for some time.” Ranade took a little comb from his pocket and started setting his hair. He looked at me and said, “Definitely Mandar bhai! I will come with my wife too. She loves your work.” “Awesome, I will wait for you,” I responded. Ranade slyly kept his hand on my shoulder. “Mandar bhai, I have an idea for a painting that you can make.” “What is it?” I asked, showing courtesy. Ranade whispered, “Can you paint me while I fuck a 30-year-old housewife?” I was stunned. “What? I mean, sure. But who? When?” Ranade winked. “Let’s go on a patrol. Come on” I sat in his Jeep, and we started our ride. I lit a cigarette and started smoking. Ranade took out his phone and started browsing his contacts, navigating the steering wheel with another hand. Ranade made a call and put on a loudspeaker. “Hello, Mrs. Chopra, is your husband home? Actually, I don’t care. Come down outside your apartment in 5 minutes.” A soft but stern voice responded, “Ranade, I can’t come now. I am having dinner. I can stop by your station later. Do whatever you want, then.” Ranade wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Mrs. Chopra, you are a whore, and I own you. Come now, or I will tell your husband about your little adventures with his business partner.” Mrs. Chopra was a bit nervous. “Ranade, please don’t tell him. He will kill us both.” Ranade, “I am waiting below your apartment. Get condoms and vaseline.” Mrs. Chopra, “Please not my ass today. I will blow your dick as many times as you want today. But not ass. It hurts from last time.” Ranade: Stop the drama and come down now. I am reaching you in 2 minutes. And he cut the call. I was mad with curiosity and asked Ranade, “What’s with Mrs. Chopra? Are you dating her or something?” Ranade laughed hard and parked the vehicle near a lavish society. “No Mandar. I don’t date. I fuck. A couple of months ago, I caught her at a swingers’ party, riding her husband’s business partner in the parking lot. That too on the floor, haha. She is a bitch.” I got a hard-on, saying, “And now you are blackmailing her for sex, aren’t you?” Ranade said, “Well, yes! Among other whores I have in this city.” With that, we saw the society gate open and a busty woman walk towards the Jeep. She had long hair until she had a flat belly. Her boobs were jiggling along with the deep cleavage. Her lipstick was overdone, like a cheap hooker. She was wearing a daily white saree and a sleeveless blouse. That must be Mrs. Chopra. Her chubby cheeks and heavily done eyelashes would render any man uneasy in pants. She leaned on the Jeep window and winked at Ranade. Mrs. Chopra, “Ranade you, moron. I told you not to come here. Just get a room at the Park Hotel. I would have rocked your world loudly.” Ranade gulped and groped her shoulder. “Now get in. This Jeep is the hotel room today, and I am your master.” Mrs Chopra opened the back door and got in. Her cologne brightened the ambience. She was carrying a box with her. Probably condoms. To my and Mrs. Chopra’s surprise, Ranade drove the Jeep straight into her society. Mrs. Chopra panicked and said, “Are you high? Where are you taking me? Let’s go to the hotel.” Ranade smiled and gently responded, “No, Mrs. Chopra. I want to do you in the parking lot. At your husband’s parking spot. I am going to make you squirt all over it.” Fear was obvious on Mrs. Chopra’s face. She was not expecting this. However, she was helpless. We arrived in the parking lot and stopped at the Chopras’ parking spot. It had space for two cars. One of which was vacant, and Ranade parked there. Mrs Chopra got out of the vehicle and adjusted her hair into a pony, exposing her broad, spotless shoulders. We got out of the Jeep and stretched our legs. There was a security guard about a little over 50 feet from us. He was a little alert and was constantly looking at our little party. Ranade whistled at him and called him to us. To which he ran and came quickly. Ranade was in a playful mood, apparently. He said, “What’s your name?” The guard said, “Gajanan, sir.” Ranade adjusted his pants and lit a cigarette. “Gajanan, do you know the madam?” Gajanan, “Yes, sirji, Mrs Chopra stays in our building.” Ranade turned towards Mrs Chopra, who was seductively leaning on the Jeep and fidgeting with her phone. He said, “Mrs. Chopra, give your panties to Gajanan. Put it in his pocket.” Mrs. Chopra smiled and pouted toward Gajanan. She bent down a bit and lifted her saree just enough to put her hand inside. She pulled her pants out swiftly and stepped out of them. They were green and blingy, obviously from an elite brand. Mrs. Chopra walked towards Gajanan with her boner-giving stare and stuffed the pants in his shirt pocket. She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed his balls tightly. He writhed in pain. Mrs Chopra, “Now go and don’t let anyone in the parking lot.” Gajanan left, panting, his hand caressing his cock over his pants. Ranade removed his belt and squashed his cigarette in his Jeep. “Mrs. Chopra, would you be kind and suck my cock?” Mrs Chopra tied her hair in the back and dropped her pallu. Uff, her cleavage was so distinct, hiding only a fraction of her gigantic melons. She pushed Ranade to lean on the Jeep and slowly went on her knees with killer eye contact. She started unzipping his pants with her bony hands. Her bangles were tingling, and her huge buttcrack was visible over her silky saree. She pulled his cock out. It was an average 5-inch-hairy cock. As soon as she opened her curvy lips to take it in, Ranade held her by her hair and stuffed his limo cock inside her mouth. He started face-fucking Mrs Chopra. Her pallu was now lying on the floor, and her boobs were jerking through her shiny blouse with each thrust. Ranade, “Hey, Mandar, take some photos for your reference, haha. With this hot bitch on my cock, I don’t think you would be able to draw us now.” He was right. I was barely able to stand straight with all the arousal. Ranade continued, “Mrs. Chopra, do you kiss your husband with that mouth? Hahaha!” He caressed her head while she was gulping him like a whore. I wanted to do something. Maybe spank her, crush her boobs, lift her saree, and jerk off. Something. But she was Ranade’s whore. Ranade was groaning with pleasure. His eyes closed in ecstasy. His palm quenched in Mrs. Chopra’s hair. He threw away his cigarette, grabbed her with the other hand, too, and gave her a final push. His crotch thumped against her face. Mrs Chopra’s bangles calmed down as Ranade came inside her mouth. The load was too much for her slutty mouth to hold. It dripped down her cheeks all the way to her blouse. Mrs Chopra forcefully withdrew her mouth and coughed hard. With the sluttiest expression, she wiped her face and winked at Ranade, still on her knees. She licked her fingers and started fingering herself furiously. Her bangles tinkling. She moaned. “Ahh Ranade, Ranade…is my cunt going home thirsty today?” Mrs. Chopra was panting. She added, “That was quick, Ranade. What happened? Those balls are getting old.” Ranade’s ego sparked his lust. He held Mrs Chopra by the shoulders and stood her up. “Turn around, Mrs. Chopra.” Mrs Chopra, with her pallu lying on the ground, turned around with a smirk on her face. Ranade raised his hand and landed a loud spank on her ass. Her saree almost wore off. Mrs Chopra, “Ufff Ranade, you motherfucker.” Ranade cupped her shoulders behind her and bent her. He lifted her saree from behind, exposing her luscious thighs to her black underwear. She was wearing silver anklets. Ranade held her saree in his teeth and lowered her pants to her knees in one shot. Her buttocks jiggled, and her asshole was exposed to all of us. He opened the Jeep door once again and took out his police staff. I loved where he was taking this. He parted her ass cheeks with this stick and made it to her opening. Mrs Chopra, “Aaah Ranade, it is cold…” Ranade loved her pain, so he pushed a little harder, and the rod entered Mrs. Chopra’s asshole. She writhed with ecstasy and moaned loudly. He started laughing. I was hard in my pants, too. I shouted, “Ranade, sir, can I use her? I will go nuts else.” Ranade said, “Mrs. Chopra, your mouth has a new job to do. Go ahead, Mandar, let her suck you off.” I dropped my pants and instantly stood in front of Mrs. Chopra’s face. She was bent exactly to my crotch height. Mrs. Chopra smiled. “Ranade, he looks stressed. Let’s see if he can last longer than you.” With that, she grabbed me by my balls and gulped me like a vixen. She closed her eyes and swirled her tongue inside her mouth. My dick was flattered by these sensations. I held Mrs. Chopra’s head and thrust my cock deeper. She let go of my balls, and her arms went down to her wet pussy. Both holes were drilled. She was bent over like a horse and rammed like a bitch. Mrs. Chopra was moaning with pleasure and pain. Her mangalsutra was suspended from her arch neck. Ranade cupped her butt cheek. “Mrs. Chopra, your ass is thirsty enough. It’s time to take Daddy’s cock. Mrs Chopra’s eyes widened, and she started pushing me away. But I couldn’t let that slutty mouth get away from my cock. Ranade unbuckled his pants and got his cock out. Pulsating, dark, hairy penis. He spat on his cock and wet his fingers with the spit. With his strong arms, he parted Mrs. Chopra’s legs apart and held her saree in his mouth. He placed his dick on Mrs Chopra’s asshole. Ranade was mesmerized as his cock touched her wet hole. He spanked Mrs Chopra loudly and pushed himself inside her with brute force. It was a strong thrust. Me and Mrs. Chopra got pushed and felt the hump. My cock slipped out of Mrs Chopra’s mouth. And she let out a painful sigh, “Ahhhh.” Ranade’s cock was a few centimetres long. He cupped her love handles tightly and slowly pushed the rest of his cock in. Mrs Chopra’s eyes widened like a frog. Her legs started shaking. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I shoved my cock back into Mrs. Chopra’s mouth. My cock just wanted to wank itself off. So I started mouth-fucking her hard. On the other end, Ranade was grinding her with small but powerful strokes. His every hump was a loud clap on her ass. She was oscillating between me and Ranade. Her one hand was clenching on the Jeep, and the other was tingling my balls. I was close to shedding my juices. But Ranade was rejoicing at the warmth of Mrs. Chopra’s hole. He ecstatically uttered, “Mrs. Chopra, you whore. Even if I fuck a hundred whores every day, you are the dessert that my cock longs for.” Mrs Chopra twerked her ass gently. I held her jaw and gave her one powerful push in the mouth. 1 Mississippi… 2 Mississippi… 3 Mississippi… “Ah, Mrs Chopra. Your mouth is a glory hole. If I were your husband, I would never leave those holes alone.” I groaned as I came inside her mouth. Juices were oozing out of her. With that, I withdrew my cock and leaned on the Jeep for balance. Mrs. Chopra slurped the cum. And licked her fingers. Her mangalsutra was still oscillating with Ranade’s humps and had started thrusting harder than ever. With each jerk, her pounded melons were shaking violently. ‘Thump…thump…thump.’ Ranade, “Mrs. Chopra…” With that, he must have cum inside her whory-hole! He threw himself on her body. I started cupping her milky boobs. Mrs Chopra: Ranade, your wife must be shrieking every night like a boar. Poor woman. Ranade was panting, “Shut up your slut. Now go and ride your husband’s dick with my cum inside you.” Mrs Chopra started getting dressed up. She was tying her hair and adjusting her boobs in the Jeep’s mirror. She went near Ranade and bit his ear. “Ranade, next time, let’s do it in your wife’s room.” With that, she left. I buckled myself up and sat in the Jeep. Ranade started the car. And we left. That’s all for today, readers. Thank you for reading through the story! Reach out to me at [email protected]. I am active on Google Chat. Feedback, kinks, and banter are all welcome.