Chitra stepped onto the crowded Yellow Line metro at Rajiv Chowk station, her heart already pounding with that familiar slutty thrill. It was 7:30 PM, peak rush hour in Delhi. The air was thick with sweat, cheap perfume, and the unmistakable musk of tired men. At 24, Chitra looked every bit the office girl on the outside—tight white blouse stretched over her full 34D tits, a tiny black pleated skirt that ended just below her ass cheeks, and high heels that made her long legs look endless. But underneath? No bra, no panties. Her shaved pussy was already dripping, clit swollen and aching for use. She was a known free-use slut on this line. Word had spread among the regulars—Chitra didn’t say no. Ever. She lived for it.

The doors hissed shut and the train lurched forward. Bodies pressed in from all sides. A middle-aged uncle in a faded kurta was glued to her back, his hard cock already poking against her ass through his pants. Chitra smiled to herself and pushed back slightly, letting him feel how wet she was getting.