The office clock showed 8:47 PM.

Most employees had already left, but Pallavi was still at her desk, pretending to finish the quarterly report.

Her black saree was tightly wrapped around her soft, chubby body, the pallu slightly slipped down, revealing the deep valley between her massive boobs.

The nerdy black glasses sat on her nose as she bit her lower lip, trying to control herself.

She looked around the empty floor.

No one.

Her boss, Mr. Sharma, and his three favorite managers — Rahul, Arjun, and Vikram — were still in the conference room.

Pallavi’s heart was beating fast. For the last few weeks, she had been feeling this unbearable heat between her thighs every night after work.

Her hand slowly slid under the table.

She pressed her palm against her saree-covered pussy and let out a soft, shaky breath.

“Ahh… just a little…”

She whispered to herself.

She closed her eyes, imagining rough hands grabbing her big soft tits, someone calling her a dirty randi while fucking her from behind.

Her fingers moved in small circles over the thin fabric. A tiny moan escaped her lips.

“Mmm… fuck…”

At that exact moment, the conference room door opened.

Mr. Sharma stepped out first, followed by the three men.

They froze when they saw her — legs slightly spread, one hand clearly between her thighs, face flushed, glasses fogged a little.

Pallavi’s eyes snapped open. Her hand froze.

“Pallavi?” Mr. Sharma’s deep voice cut through the silence.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She quickly pulled her hand away, adjusting her pallu with trembling fingers. Her massive chest was heaving.

“I… I was just… the report… sir…”

She stammered, voice shaky.Rahul smirked, eyes locked on her deep cleavage.

“Report? Looked like you were fingering that wet Bengali pussy of yours.”

Arjun laughed softly.

“Damn, look at those big tits shaking. Never knew our shy secretary was such a horny slut.”

Vikram stepped closer, his eyes dark.

“Boss, I think we just caught our little office randi red-handed.”

Pallavi’s face burned with shame.

She wanted the ground to swallow her.

But at the same time, a fresh gush of wetness soaked her panties.

Mr. Sharma walked forward slowly, stopping right in front of her desk.

He leaned down, voice low and dangerous.

“Listen carefully, Pallavi. If you don’t want your husband to see the CCTV footage of his chubby wife playing with herself in the office… you’re going to do exactly what we say from now on.”

Pallavi swallowed hard, her big breasts rising and falling rapidly.

“W-what do you want, sir?”

She whispered, voice barely audible.

Mr. Sharma smiled coldly.

“First… stand up. And remove that pallu. Let us see how big those tits really are.”