In the stifling heat of the bustling Mumbai office, Anjali, a young and vibrant office worker, felt the relentless throb of desire between her legs. Her pussy, already wet with anticipation, seemed to pulse in sync with the cacophony of keyboards and murmured conversations that filled the room. With a furtive glance to ensure no prying eyes were on her, she slowly parted her thighs, allowing the cool air to graze her dampened folds. The soft fabric of her cotton sari clung to her skin as she subtly moved her hand under the heavy wooden desk. Her heart raced as she slipped a finger inside her panties, teasing the sensitive flesh. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as she touched herself, the sensation heightened by the illicit nature of her actions. Her eyes glazed over, lost in the fantasy playing out in her mind, as she imagined the handsome colleague from the marketing department discovering her secret. The thought of his shock and subsequent lust only served to make her wetter, her body begging for more. She slid her finger deeper, feeling the warm embrace of her pussy, and began to stroke her clit in gentle circles, her breath quickening. The tension grew, the risk of getting caught adding an exhilarating thrill to her solitary pleasure. Anjali’s body tensed as the orgasm built, the walls of her sex quivering around her digit. Finally, with a silent moan, she climaxed, her hand still hidden beneath the desk, her body trembling with the intensity of her release. The world outside her desk remained oblivious to the scandalous symphony playing out beneath it.
