Aisha told Omar she was visiting her sister for the afternoon. Instead, she met Aryan at a quiet park on the city's edge. He arrived on his bike, pulling her onto the back seat. They rode to a secluded spot by the river, the wind whipping her hijab. Under a shady tree, Aryan kissed her hard, his tongue invading her mouth as she gasped. 'I've wanted this since I saw you,' he growled, yanking her abaya up to expose her thighs.
Aisha's hands trembled as she unbuttoned his shirt, feeling his hard chest. He pushed her against the tree, his fingers sliding under her panties to rub her slick pussy. 'So wet for a Hindu boy,' he murmured, dipping two fingers inside her tight hole. She moaned, grinding against his hand, her hijab still in place like a forbidden crown. Aryan dropped to his knees, pulling her panties aside and licking her clit with firm strokes. Aisha's legs shook as she came, her juices coating his chin. In return, she knelt, unzipping his jeans to free his thick, veined cock. It throbbed in her hand, pre-cum beading at the tip. She sucked him deep, her lips stretching around his girth, gagging slightly as he fucked her mouth. 'Good Muslim wife,' he taunted, pulling out to cum on her hijab, marking her. Back home, Omar noticed her flushed face but said nothing. Aisha smiled secretly, tasting Aryan on her tongue.
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