The next evening, Priya slipped out of her house saying she was going to the fields to collect some fresh vegetables for dinner. The entire village still saw her as the pure, shy Priya — the girl who blushed at every compliment and never looked any man in the eye for long. But after the river incident, her body was aching for more. Her pussy throbbed constantly, nipples stayed sensitive, and her mind replayed the rough hands and thick cocks that had claimed her.

This time she headed to the far mustard fields on the outskirts — vast, empty stretches where the crop had been recently harvested, leaving behind soft golden stubble and hidden corners perfect for sin. The sun was setting, painting the sky blood red. A cool breeze made her light blue saree cling to her voluptuous body, outlining her heavy breasts and wide hips.