In the heart of the Indian Himalayas, a small village nestled among the towering peaks was home to a woman named Anjali. She was a striking figure, with long, dark hair that cascaded down her back and a voluptuous figure that was the envy of every woman in the village. Her most distinctive feature, however, was her generous, round bottom that seemed to have a life of its own.
Anjali was a woman of simple pleasures. She spent her days tending to her small farm and her nights lost in the pages of her beloved books. She had never given much thought to romance or physical intimacy, but that was all about to change.
One day, a handsome traveler named Ravi arrived in the village. He was a tall, muscular man with piercing eyes and a charming smile. Anjali was immediately drawn to him, and she found herself spending more and more time in his company.
Ravi was a skilled lover, and he knew just how to pleasure a woman. He started with gentle kisses on Anjali’s neck, working his way down to her ample breasts. He teased her nipples with his tongue, making her moan with pleasure.
Anjali was on fire. She had never felt anything like this before, and she couldn’t get enough. She begged Ravi to take her, to make her his own.
