he was the kind of guy who seemed ready for anything. His aunt, Padma, 39, lived in Dubai and had a body that could make any man’s cock stand at attention. Her 36-30-38 figure—big, heavy breasts, a thick, juicy ass, and a curvy, voluptuous frame—was pure temptation. Her fair skin glowed, her long black hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes had a seductive glint that drew men in like moths to a flame. In a salwar-kameez, she was a vision of desire; in a tight T-shirt, slacks, or a flimsy nighty at home, she was downright irresistible. Her husband, Sunny’s uncle, was a businessman in Dubai, leaving Padma alone in India to oversee her new flat.

Kanjibhai, 60, a retired businessman who sold Padma the flat, was a hefty, robust man with white hair but a body that still carried strength. His deep voice and booming laugh exuded authority, and he’d met Padma before in Dubai. Then there was Pramukh, 45, the building manager—a dark, muscular man with a thick mustache, a cunning smile, and eyes brimming with lust. His chiseled physique looked like it was forged in the gym, radiating raw masculinity.