Celebrityfantasystories

Virat kohli ki aankhon mein aaj match ke baad bhi wohi aag jal rahi thi – India ne Pakistan ko hara diya tha, crowd ka roar abhi bhi uske kaanon mein goonj raha tha, lekin uske andar kuch aur hi hulchul mach rahi thi. Locker room ka dim light, paseene ki khushboo aur thakaan ka ehsaas... teeno players akela reh gaye the. Bumrah aur Hardik, dono uske closest dost, lekin aaj unki nazron mein kuch alag tha. Virat ki tight body, uski sweaty jersey jo uske chiseled chest pe chipki hui thi, aur woh muskurahat jo field pe king banati thi... aaj woh un dono ko bilkul alag nazar aa raha tha. Bumrah pehle badha, uska lamba kad, woh serious chehra ab ek naughty smile mein badal gaya. "Arre captain saab, aaj toh tune field pe sabko hila diya... lekin yahan andar... teri body dekh ke lag raha hai tu bhi hilne ko taiyaar hai." Usne Virat ki shoulder pe haath rakha, ungliyan dheere se uski neck ki taraf badh gayi. Virat ka dil zor se dhadka, lekin usne hans ke kaha, "Kya bo...

ICC trophy jeetne ke baad Mumbai ka five-star hotel abhi bhi party ke garam jazbe se bhara tha, lekin Virat ne sabko jaldi bhej diya. Sirf Jaddu ko rok liya, uski aankhon mein woh bhookh chhupa kar jo sirf uske liye thi. “Jaddu... aaj celebration incomplete hai yaar,” Virat ne uske kandhe pe haath rakh kar kaha, awaaz mein woh narmi aur garmi ka mila-jula gehraai jo Jaddu ko andar tak hilaa rahi thi. “Mere suite mein aa. Sirf hum dono. Thoda whisky, thoda baat... trophy ko yaad karte hain, aur teri us tight body ko bhi jo field pe dekh ke mera lund raat bhar khada rehta hai aur sochta hai ki kaise teri gaand ko faad dun.” Jadeja thoda thaka tha, lekin Virat ki uss nazar ko dekh kar haan kar diya. Suite mein pahunchte hi Virat ne bar khola – premium single malt, ice, aur do bade-bade glass. Lights bilkul dim kar di, baahar Mumbai ki barsaat sheeshe pe zor-zor se tapak rahi thi jaise unke andar ka tufaan. “Pehla peg tere liye, meri jaan Jaddu,” Virat ne glass thamaaya, apna h...

Raat ke 11:45 baj chuke the. Mumbai ke ek 5-star luxury hotel ki presidential suite mein sirf ek table lamp ki halki si golden roshni thi. Bahar se Mumbai ki barsaat ki boondein khidki par gir rahi thi, jaise unke dil ki dhadkan ko aur tez kar rahi ho. Shubman Gill aur Ishan Kishan aaj ka match jeet kar wapas aaye the, lekin aaj sirf jeet nahi… unke beech chhupi hui kai saalon ki chhupi attraction aag ban kar phootne wali thi. Ishan ne apni wet team jersey utari aur bed ke kinare baith gaya. Uske solid chest par paseena chamak raha tha. Woh Shubman ki taraf dekhta raha, aankhon mein ek aisi bhook jo match ke time se hi jal rahi thi. Shubman mirror ke saamne khada tha, apni shirt ke buttons khol raha tha, lekin uski aankhein Ishan ko dekh rahi thi. Ishan dheere se bola, awaaz mein ek halki si kaanp, “Shubi… aaj match mein jab tu century maar raha tha… main field mein khada sirf tujhe dekh raha tha. Har shot ke baad teri muskurahat… teri tight pants mein teri gaand… fuck yaar...