Desperado – erotic criminal

Tell me, how many of you like to have sex with someone younger or older than you? This is one such story.

This is a two-part story, involving passionate sex, lust, taboo, and kink.

Key figures:

Myself
Merlin – (mom) in her late 30s, my hot queen.
Roshan – (dad) lol he’s not important.
Vyshnavi – (daughter), a young teenager, their only princess.

In today’s world, everything has become easily accessible, from porn to sex toys. Before 10 years of porn, condoms and sex toys weren’t that common, but today we can find a dildo and vibrator on many 10-minute e-commerce platforms.

Coming to the story, this is a slow read. Please bear with me. I’m sure all your questions will be answered in the last part.

30-Sep-2025:

The elevator opened on the 13th floor with a sterile sound. The package in my hand felt like a gift. Byanna’s son, that lucky bastard, had no idea what he’d just handed me.

He just saw a neighbour doing a favour for another neighbour. He could not know he had just delivered the key to my deepest, most forbidden taboo fantasy.

I unlocked the door. I slammed it shut behind me, leaning on the door as I caught my breath. It was so silent in the apartment, but I could see a volcano bursting in my head. Roshan Sir’s package.

I held it up, my name scribbled next to his in the delivery agent’s messy handwriting. A mistake. A glorious, serendipitous mistake.

My mind, already buzzing from a long day and the potent image of Merlin I’d carried home, immediately went to the darkest, most delicious place. What does a man like Roshan order that he needs delivered so late? Something kinky.

It had to be. The thought was a siren’s call, impossible to resist. I tore the plastic seal, my actions frantic, hurried, a thief in my own home. The cardboard flap gave way. I peered inside, and my breath hitched in my throat.

It’s a bubble wrap of silicone sculpture, a veined, thick, and undeniably realistic Dildo, a deep, flushed pink. Shock. Pure, electric shock coursed through me. This wasn’t some random trinket; this was a tool of pleasure. Merlin’s pleasure.

A violent, possessive heat flared in my gut, my cock straining against the confines of my work trousers. This was for her. This was what she used when her respectable, income-tax-department husband wasn’t enough. The image was instantaneous and devastating.

Merlin is working as a principal in the top engineering college in the city. The elegant wife, on her knees or on her back, fucking herself with this very toy. her perfect lips parted in a silent cry. I ran to my room with the package, holding it close to my chest like a priceless treasure.

I collapsed onto my bed, the weight of my discovery and the heaviness in my groin pinning me down. I know she’ll be desperately waiting for the package. As she had already received the message saying the package was delivered. I planned to hand it over after 20 minutes with a polite smile.

But it was incinerated, replaced by something raw, primal, and obsessive. I had to have her. Not by force, never that. But by will. By cunning. I will make her want me so badly that she will beg for it like a puppy. I just closed my eyes and the fantasy consumed me, vivid and intoxicating.

I’m in their locked bedroom, not mine. She’s there, standing by the bed, her back to me, still in the elegant saree she wore this morning. She doesn’t hear me enter.

“Merlin,” I whisper, my voice a low command that makes her jump and spin around. Her eyes, wide with surprise, quickly darken with something else. Recognition. Lust.

I hold up the dildo, her secret, now mine. Her hand shut her mouth, a gasp trapped behind her fingers. She’s embarrassed, caught, exposed. But she doesn’t scream. She doesn’t call for Roshan. She just watched me, her boobs rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.

“I think you were expecting this,” I say, stepping closer. I don’t hand it to her. I place it on the bed between us, a challenge. “But I brought you something better.”

I moved closer to her. Now I touched her blouse, her body shivered under my touch, but she didn’t pull away from it. My thumb finds the hard peak of her tits, and a soft moan escapes her lips.

“Tell me you want this,” I gently bite on her earlobe.

“I… I want it,” she breathes, her voice husky and broken. “Please.”

Consent from her was enough for me; I stripped her. The only thing left on her body is her Mangalsutra. A symbol of her marriage, now a trophy for my conquest. It sways as I push her back onto the bed.

I saw that very instant u smooched her. She kissed me back with a lust that I didn’t know she possessed, her nails digging into my shoulders. I let my hands roam everywhere, the generous curve of her hip, the softness of her inner thigh, the wet heat already gathering at her core.

I break the kiss, trailing my lips down her body. I worship her breasts, sucking one taut nipple into my mouth while I roll the other between my fingers. She cries out, her back bowing off the bed. “Yes, right there! Don’t stop!”

I continue my descent, kissing my way down her trembling stomach. I hook her legs over my shoulders, pulling her very essence to my mouth.

I made her lie before me. The scent of her arousal and wet pussy mixed with sweat is the most powerful aphrodisiac I’ve ever known. I didn’t wanna tease her, I wanna show her the real pleasure. I dive in, my tongue circling her clit with a firm and relentless pressure.

Her hips buck against my face, her hands tangling in my hair, not to pull me away but to hold me closer. She’s chanting my name again and again. I imagined this scene all my life, a sign of lust.

I slide two fingers inside her, curling them, finding that sweet and spongy spot deep within her. She is so wet, not so tight, I’m sure she has had enough experience.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Merlin,” I tell her, my voice ragged with my own need. “And you’re going to forget every other man’s name.”

I placed the head of my cock pressing against her slick folds. I saw her, her face a mask of ecstasy, her lips swollen from my kisses, her eyes glazed with desire. I pushed inside. Slowly. So slowly. Stretching her, filling her, claiming her.

Her eyes roll back in her head as a guttural, broken scream is torn from her throat. It’s a sound of utter completion. And then I begin to move.

A sharp buzz at my front door ripped through the fantasy, shattering my dream, begging Merlin beneath me.

I jerked upright on my bed, disoriented. I could hear my heart beat. The package lay next to me, a damning piece of evidence. The buzzer sounded again, insistent, impatient.

Could it be? Had they realised? Was Roshan at my door, angry? But I was so high that I ignored it.

Now, back in my silent apartment, with the proof of her—or rather, her husband’s—hidden desires sitting on my bed, that pyre erupted into an inferno. I walked back to my room, my movements slow, deliberate. I picked up the silicone toy.

It was heavier than it looked, surprisingly realistic, veined and formidable. Cold. My hand wrapped around its base, and my eyes fell shut. This is how it would happen. I wouldn’t force her. I’d make her beg for it.

In my mind, I was no longer in my bland rented room. I was in their master bedroom. It’s dark, lit only by the ambient glow of the city through the window. She’s there, Merlin is a visual treat, unconscious seduction. Her white, thin T-shirt is enough to hint at the dark circles around her areolas.

No bra. My gaze, against its will, over the soft curve of her stomach to the tiny black shorts that clung to her hips. They were so short they were almost indecent, revealing the powerful, smooth milky thighs. And so fucking hot it stole the air from my lungs.

“What are you doing here?” she’d gasp, but there’s no fear in her eyes. Only a wild, startled curiosity.

“I brought back what you ordered,” I’d say, my voice low and steady, holding up the dildo.

Her hand would fly to her mouth. A sharp inhale. Embarrassment, then a dawning, thrilling shame. “That’s not— Roshan must have—”

“It doesn’t matter.” I’d take a step closer. “The question is… do you want to see how it feels?”

She wouldn’t answer. She’d watch me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, each breath making her magnificent breasts strain against the thin cotton. That’s all the consent I’d need. I’d close the distance between us.

My free hand slides around the nape of her neck, pulling her into a kiss not of gentle romance, but of raw, claiming hunger. Her lips would part not in protest, but in surrender. A little moan would escape her throat, and I’d swallow it whole.

My fingers would find the hem of her t-shirt and pull it up and over her head in one fluid motion. There. Her breasts were even more perfect than I’d imagined. Full and heavy with dusky pink nipples already pebbled hard from anticipation.

I’d drop to my knees, my face nuzzling the softness of her stomach, my hands gripping the delicious swell of her hips, pulling her tight black shorts down those incredible thighs. They’d fall to the floor,

She’d step out of them, standing before me completely naked except for that symbol of marital duty—the mangalsutra resting between her breathtaking breasts.

I’d lean forward, my tongue lashing one taut nipple while my thumb circles the other. She’d cry out, her hands tangling in my hair, pushing my face harder against her. “Yes,” she’d whimper, “Oh god, yes.”

I’d lay her back on the bed, her dark hair fanning out on the pillow. I’d kiss my way down her body, worshipping every inch, until I reached the apex of her thighs. She’d be glistening already, her scent—musky and sweet—filling my head.

I’d bury my face in her, my tongue tracing slow, torturous circles around her clit before delving deep inside her. Her back would arch off the bed, a raw, guttural scream tearing from her throat as her orgasm would crash over her, wet and intense. But I wouldn’t be finished. Not nearly.

As she’d lie there, trembling and sensitive, I’d rise above her, holding the cold, smooth silicone. I’d press the tip against her soaked, willing entrance. Her eyes would fly open, wide with a new kind of shock.

“What are you—”

“Shhh,” I’d whisper, kissing her deeply. “Just a new toy. For my good girl.”

And I’d push, not with my cock, but with it. Her eyes would roll back in her head as the foreign, unyielding girth stretches her, fills her in a way I imagined Roshan never could. A choked sob of pleasure-pain would escape her lips. “It’s… so much…”

“You can take it,” I’d growl, my own cock aching, dripping onto her stomach. “You’re taking it so well.” I’d begin to move it, a slow, deliberate rhythm, in and out, my eyes locked on where it disappears into her body.

I’d lean down, capturing a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard as I fucked her with the toy, matching its rhythm with my tongue.

Her moans would become screams, unchecked, primal. Her legs would wrap around my back, her heels digging into me, pulling me closer, demanding more. “Faster,” she’d beg, her mind gone, lost to sensation. “Please, faster!”

I’d oblige, pistoning the dildo into her, the wet, slick sounds of our imagined union filling the room. I’d feel her inner muscles clench around the silicone, milking it, and she’d shatter again, her body seizing, her head thrashing side to side on the pillow.

“Oh God! Oh God!” she’d scream, her voice cracking with the force of it.

My own release would be close, throbbing and urgent. I’d release the toy, letting it stay buried inside her, and I’d guide my own aching length to her lips. “Your turn,” I’d rasp. “Open.”

Her eyes, dazed and submissive, would meet mine. Her tongue would dart out, and she’d open her mouth.

A sudden, sharp knocking at my actual, real-life door shattered the fantasy so completely I gasped aloud. My hand was still wrapped around the base of the dildo, my pants were tented, and my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.

The voice that came back was younger, softer, and decidedly feminine. “Sir? I… I’m sorry to bother you. It’s Vyshnavi from next door. Our Wi-Fi is down, and my father needs to file something urgent for work, as my parents aren’t home. My mom said you work in IT… could you maybe help, please?”

To be continued.

Like-minded souls can text me at [email protected]. I will be waiting for you.