Megna's family home was always filled with warmth and laughter, but today it was eerily quiet. She hummed to herself as she chopped vegetables for lunch, the only sound in the spacious kitchen. She was wearing her favorite comfortable outfit, a loose shirt and a pair of shorts, her hair pulled back into a messy bun.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Megna wiped her hands on a towel and walked to answer it, expecting a delivery or a neighbor. But when she opened the door, she was met with the sight of an old man, his face etched with wrinkles and his eyes cloudy with age.
"Excuse me, young lady," he said, his voice raspy. "Is Mr. Patel home?"
Megna's heart sank. Her father was out of town on business, and she was alone in the house. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "He's not here right now."
The old man looked disappointed, but then his eyes traveled down Megna's body, taking in her curves and lingering on her buttocks. Megna felt a shiver of unease run down her spine.
Before she could react, the old man stumbled forward, grabbing onto Megna for support. She tried to pull away, but his grip was tight. "Let go of me," she said, her voice sharp.
But the old man didn't listen. Instead, he started making lewd comments, his words slurred and confusing. He stumbled towards Megna, his body pressing against hers. She tried to push him away, but he was too strong.
The old man forced Megna onto the couch, his body heavy and unwelcome. She struggled, but he was too powerful. He started to touch her all over, his hands rough and demanding.
Megna's mind raced as she tried to think of a way to escape. She was strong and independent, but she was no match for the old man's strength. She tried to fight back, but he overpowered her.
The old man started to undress her, pulling off her shirt and shorts. She was left in just her bra and panties, her body exposed and vulnerable. She tried to cover herself, but he wouldn't let her.
He continued to touch her, his hands exploring her body. She tried to push him away, but he wouldn't stop. He started to kiss her, his lips rough and demanding.
Megna tried to turn her head away, but the old man grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the lust in his eyes. She felt a wave of disgust wash over her.
The old man started to undress himself, revealing his erect penis. Megna felt a sense of panic wash over her. She knew what was going to happen, and she didn't know how to stop it.
The old man forced himself on Megna, pushing himself inside her. She cried out in pain, but he didn't stop. He started to move his hips, thrusting in and out of her.
Megna tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. She was trapped underneath him, his body pinning her down. She felt a sense of hopelessness wash over her.
The old man started to move faster, his hips slamming into hers. Megna could feel herself getting wet, despite her best efforts. She tried to ignore it, but it was no use. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to climax.
Suddenly, she couldn't hold back any longer. She cried out, her body shaking with pleasure. The old man grunted, his own orgasm following close behind.
The old man collapsed on top of Megna, his body still. She lay there, panting and exhausted. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She felt a sense of disgust and shame wash over her.
The old man started to move, pulling out of her. Megna felt a sense of relief, but she knew this wasn't over. He wasn't going to leave her alone for the next three days.
She watched as he dressed himself, her mind racing. She didn't know what to do, how to react. She felt violated and betrayed.
The old man walked to the door, turning back to look at Megna. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his voice filled with
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