The living room smelled of incense and warm ghee. Small clay diyas lined the low table and the windowsill, waiting to be filled and lit. Outside, the colony had begun the serious fireworks—sharp cracks and bright streaks of colour against the darkening sky.

Ananya sat on the sofa exactly as her father had ordered: the oversized shirt pushed up around her waist, bare ass on the cushion, legs open. Thick, slow rivulets of his cum continued to leak from her well-used pussy, trailing down over her swollen lips and onto the fabric beneath her. She could feel every warm slide of it.