I am Dr. Imran — 33, gynaecologist, smooth with my hands and even smoother with my words.
I know every curve a woman hides, every secret her body betrays when she lies down on my table.
I don’t chase hearts. I study desires. And when I met Anagha — all silk, shyness, and untouched — I knew I’d be her first… and her last.
It started with a swipe. I was sitting in my clinic’s back office after a long shift, scrolling Tinder between patient files and lab reports. Profiles came and went—pouting lips, filtered selfies, cleavage and desperation. Boring. Then she appeared.
Anagha, 30. Dentist. Unmarried. Traditional girl.
A simple photo—no cleavage, no filters. Just those big brown eyes, an innocent smile, and a shy little bindi on her forehead. She looked untouched. Reserved. Nervous even through a picture. I swiped right. Instantly. A match. I messaged first.
“You don’t look like you belong here.”
“Maybe I don’t,” she replied, within a minute. “Just… curious.”
Curious. God, I love that word.
We chatted for days. She was awkward, polite, and easily flustered. She told me she’d never been kissed. Never had a boyfriend. Never even touched herself down there until recently.
My cock twitched the moment I read that.
“I can teach you,” I wrote one night.
“Teach me what?”
“Everything. You’ll learn how to kiss… how to moan… how to beg.”
She didn’t reply for 10 minutes. Then:
“Can I trust you?”
The First Meet.
A week later, she agreed to come to my flat. Said she didn’t want a restaurant, didn’t want “strangers watching.”
She showed up in a simple salwar kameez. Long braid. No makeup. She looked like she’d walked straight out of a Brahmin wedding and into the lion’s den.
I opened the door in a loose kurta—no boxers underneath. My cock already semi-hard just seeing her eyes scan me nervously.
“Hi…” she whispered, eyes glued to the floor.
I didn’t answer. I stepped closer, took her bag, and guided her inside with a hand on her lower back.
She sat on the couch, fidgeting. I poured her water, but she barely touched it.
“You know why you’re here, don’t you?” I asked, sitting next to her.
She nodded slowly, chewing her lip. “Not everything. I… I just want to feel…”
I leaned in, brushing my fingers down her jaw. Her breath hitched.
“You want to feel, Anagha? Then feel this…”
I kissed her.
Gently at first—lips brushing hers, warm, slow. She froze. Then whimpered. I took her mouth fully, slipping my tongue between her lips. She moaned into me.
My hand slid over her thigh, up the curve of her hip. Her breath got shakier.
“You’re wet already, aren’t you?”
She gasped. “I-I don’t know…”
I guided her back on the couch and slowly lifted her kameez. No resistance. Just heavy, nervous breathing. Her panties were soaked. A dark patch blooming between her legs.
“Lie back. Let me taste you.”
“What… what do you mean—”
“I’m going to eat your virgin pussy like it’s my last meal.”
She covered her face with her palms as I knelt between her thighs and dragged her panties down.
Her cunt was soft, puffy, untouched. Smooth as silk & smelled like sweet Shrikhand.
“Beautiful,” I growled.
She whimpered, “Don’t stare…”
“Too late.”
And I buried my face between her legs.
She arched off the couch the moment my tongue licked her slit. Her thighs clamped around my head. She tried to squirm, tried to muffle her moans—but I pinned her hips down and kept going.
Circles on her clit. Slow, wet strokes. Two fingers spreading her open, tasting her like nectar.
“Ohhh… Imran…!” she gasped, voice breaking. “W-What’s happening to me?!”
“Your first orgasm, sweetheart.”
She came like a waterfall—legs trembling, pussy twitching around nothing, soaking my beard.
I sat back, licking her juices off my fingers while she lay there, ruined, gasping.
“One lesson done,” I smirked. “Many more to come.
Anagha lay on my couch, legs parted, her soaked panties dangling from one ankle. Her chest heaved, her dupatta halfway off her shoulder, braid loosened. She looked ravished—and more importantly, addicted.
She covered her face in her hands, giggling shyly.
“You okay?” I asked, voice thick with pride.
She peeked through her fingers, blushing furiously. “That… that was insane. I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
I leaned in, licking the corner of her mouth. “That’s just the beginning.”
Then I stood up, letting her eyes drop to the tent in my kurta.
Her gaze lingered there. She tried not to stare, but her lips parted slightly, curiosity blooming.
“Want to return the favour?” I asked, voice low.
Her eyes flicked up, nervous but hungry. “I’ve never… I don’t know how.”
I stepped forward, standing right in front of her face.
“Good,” I said, pulling the kurta up slowly. “Then I get to train you from scratch.”
My cock sprang free—thick, veiny, already dripping from just tasting her.
Anagha gasped. Her eyes widened as she stared at the size of it, throat visibly swallowing.
“Will… will that fit in my mouth?” she whispered.
I chuckled darkly. “Eventually.”
She reached up with trembling fingers, touched the shaft like it was sacred. Her palm was so small, so soft. She gripped me gently, uncertain.
“It’s… so warm,” she muttered, mesmerized.
I guided her hair back, gripping her braid in my fist like reins.
“Open your mouth, Anagha. Wider.”
She obeyed.
Her lips parted and I slid my cockhead between them, just letting her taste the tip. She moaned around it—so new, so tight. Her tongue was hesitant, licking softly.
“Good girl. Use your tongue. Swirl it.”
She tried, messy and unsure, but fuck—it was hot watching her struggle to impress me.
Drool slipped down her chin as she slowly bobbed her head, her lips hugging my shaft tighter with each stroke.
“That’s it,” I groaned, tightening my grip on her braid. “Look up at me.”
She did—and that image burned itself into my mind. My shy little virgin dentist, eyes wide and wet, mouth stuffed with my cock.
I thrust a little deeper.
She gagged. Choked.
Pulled back, coughing.
“I’m sorry!” she cried, wiping her lips.
But I just grabbed her chin. “Don’t apologize. Just keep trying. Get messy. Sloppy is sexy.”
She nodded like an obedient student, then leaned in again.
This time, I didn’t guide her. I let her explore. She got bolder, sucking harder, taking more of me in. Her spit coated my cock, cheeks hollowing as she worked.
“Fuuuck… that’s it, baby,” I growled. “You were made for this.”
I could’ve painted her face right then—but I wanted more.
I pulled her off mid-suck with a wet pop, her mouth still open, lips swollen and glistening.
She stared at me, panting. “Did I do okay…?”
I wiped her chin with my thumb and licked it.
“You did more than okay. Next time, I’ll fuck your throat. But right now…”
I bent her over the couch, lifted her salwar again, and rubbed my cock between her soaked thighs.
“…I need to be inside this virgin pussy.”
Her cunt was dripping—soaked and begging—yet untouched.
I bent her over the armrest of my couch. Her back arched, ass high, braid spilling over her shoulder like a leash I could pull. Her thighs trembled. She looked over her shoulder at me, eyes wide, lips parted.
“Imran…” she whispered, voice shaking. “Will it hurt?”
“Yes,” I growled. “Your cunt will stretch. It’ll burn. And you’ll love every second of it.”
She swallowed. Then slowly, silently, nodded.
That was all I needed.
I gripped her soft hips, pulled her cheeks apart, and rubbed my fat cockhead against her tight slit. She gasped the second it touched her.
“W-Wait,” she whimpered.
I leaned down, my chest flush to her back, my cock teasing her entrance.
“I’ve waited long enough. And so have you.”
And with one smooth thrust—I pushed forward.
Her cunt resisted. Tight as a fist. Like it didn’t want to let me in.
She screamed.
Her body jerked forward, but I held her there—half buried inside her, feeling her virgin walls pulse and spasm around me.
“Shhh… breathe, Anagha. You’re mine now.”
She sobbed. “It’s s-so big… I can’t…”
“You can. You will.”
I pulled back an inch, then pushed deeper. Her virginity broke with a sharp cry. I felt her barrier tear—warm, wet, tight. Blood slicked my shaft.
I moaned low. “Fucking perfect.”
I bottomed out inside her.
Balls deep in her for the first time.
She clung to the couch, shaking, tears in her eyes.
But her pussy… clenched around me like it didn’t want to let go.
“You’re taking me so well, baby,” I whispered, kissing her shoulder. “So tight. So warm. So mine.”
Then I began to move.
Slow strokes at first—letting her feel the full length of me. Letting her burn around every inch. Each thrust dragged a ragged moan from her lips.
Her pain melted into breathless moans.
Her moans turned into cries.
Her cries into gasps of “Yes… yes… Imran… oh my God…”
I gripped her braid, pulling her head back. My other hand smacked her ass hard. She cried out, shocked—but her pussy clenched tighter around me.
“You like that?” I hissed. “You like being broken like a good little virgin slut?”
She whimpered, “Yes…”
“Say it louder.”
“Yes, Imran! F-Fuck me… I’m your slut!”
That was it.
I lost control.
I fucked her harder—balls slapping her ass, couch creaking, her cries echoing in the room.
“Take it. Every inch.”
She came hard—legs shaking, cunt gripping me, screaming into a pillow.
I didn’t stop.
“I’m going to fill you up, Anagha.”
She gasped, “No—inside?!”
“Yes. I want your womb dripping.”
And with one final thrust, I buried myself fully and came inside her—long, deep spurts flooding her untouched cunt.
I collapsed over her, panting, still twitching inside.
She was broken. Claimed. Creampied.
She lay there, barely able to move, a dazed smile on her face.
“I can’t believe I took it,” she whispered.
“You didn’t just take it,” I growled, kissing her neck. “You begged for it.”
Anagha was limp on the couch—sweaty, glowing, her virgin cunt oozing my cum down her thighs. Her eyes were glassy, smile lazy. She looked ruined.
And I wasn’t even done.
I crouched between her legs, spreading her open again just to watch her leak. My seed, thick and creamy, spilled slowly from her stretched hole. I smeared it with my thumb and pushed some back inside.
She flinched, gasped. “Imran…”
“I want it to stay,” I said, voice thick with lust. “I want your body to absorb every drop.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Will that make me—?”
“Pregnant?” I smirked. “Not yet. But soon. Very soon.”
I grabbed her braid, tugged her to her knees, and looked into her fucked-out eyes.
“You’ve taken cock in your pussy,” I said slowly. “Now it’s time to train your mouth. And maybe that tight little asshole too.”
Her eyes widened.
“You said you’d teach me everything,” she whispered.
“I will. Every. Single. Thing.”
I guided her to the floor and sat on the couch. My cock was still slick with her juices, half-hard and throbbing. She crawled between my legs like a well-trained slut—naked, dripping, eager.
“Show me what you’ve learned.”
She gripped the base and took me into her mouth—sloppy, wet, hungry. Her head bobbed faster, drool spilling out. She gagged, choked, but didn’t stop.
I groaned. “Good girl. Messy. Slutty.”
She pulled off with a loud pop, eyes wet.
“Am I doing good?”
I stood up, grabbed her face, and slapped her cheeks gently with my cock. “You’re doing fucking perfect. Now open wider.”
She obeyed, mouth wide, tongue out.
I slid deep, pushing past her throat. She gagged, tears streaming. I held her there, cock buried in her throat.
“Don’t breathe. Take it.”
Her throat squeezed me. She struggled. And just when she was about to tap out—I pulled back.
She gasped for air, saliva dripping down her chin.
“Now turn around,” I growled. “Ass up.”
She did, still coughing, face red and soaked. Her ass was tight, round, trembling.
I spread her cheeks and spat on her asshole.
She whimpered. “Imran… I’ve never—”
“I’ll go slow. Just the tip.”
I pressed a lubed finger into her tight hole. She hissed, tense.
“Relax. You’re mine. Let me in.”
I fingered her ass slowly—one finger, then two. She squirmed, moaned. Her pussy gushed just from that.
“You dirty little slut,” I growled. “Your ass is leaking and I haven’t even fucked it yet.”
She gasped. “Will it fit…?”
“It will. Eventually.”
I didn’t take her ass fully that night. Just trained it. Teased it. Stretched it. Made her crave it.
By the end, she was panting, begging, licking cum off my fingers like it was dessert.
Anagha’s holes were mine. Her body—obedient. Her cunt—bred.
And her training had only just begun.