Adultery Wife helps me become a cuckold

[incest_cuck]

My name is Arijit, and I'm about to share some stories about the most intimate details of my sex life. I'm 34, and my wife Aradhya is 29. We've been married for almost a year now, and what a year it's been. Our honeymoon phase took an unexpected turn, plunging us into a world of sexual exploration we never anticipated.
 
About me: I'm a typical Indian husband you'd pass on the streets of Kolkata without a second glance. My frame is slight, bordering on skinny, with narrow shoulders and a flat chest. I stand a few inches shorter than most men around me, often having to crane my neck in conversations. My skin is a warm brown, my features unremarkable - a straight nose, average lips, and dark eyes framed by thick brows. My black hair is neatly trimmed, fighting a losing battle against an emerging bald spot. At the MNC where I work, I blend seamlessly into the crowd of similarly dressed professionals, my pressed shirt hanging loosely on my lean frame.
 
About my wife: My wife Aradhya is a head-turner, even among the beauties of Kolkata. She's petite, standing at the same height as most Indian women, but her presence fills a room. Her dusky skin glows with vitality, smooth as silk and begging to be touched. Her long, almond-shaped eyes are captivating, framed by thick lashes. Aradhya's figure is a feast for the eyes - slim waist flaring out to luscious hips, her ass round and perky. Her tits are full and firm, straining against her tops. When she works from home, she often wears yoga pants that hug every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Her lips are full and pouty, perfect for both sultry smiles and more carnal activities.
 
Here are few characters that will be of interest in this story:
 
Harpreet, the plumber: Harpreet is a towering presence, standing head and shoulders above most Indian men. He’s in his mid-late 20s. His Punjabi heritage shows in his robust build - broad shoulders tapering to a trim waist, muscles rippling beneath his skin without reaching bodybuilder proportions. His chest and arms are covered in a thick carpet of dark hair, visible through his often sweat-soaked shirts. Harpreet's face is framed by an unkempt beard, giving him a rugged, masculine appeal. His large, calloused hands speak of hard work, while his deep voice and confident stride exude raw virility. When he's working, his movements are fluid and powerful, drawing attention to his impressive physicality.
 
The landlord, Mr. Banerjee: Our new landlord is a squat, unimpressive figure, standing eye-level with me and thus shorter than most Indian men. His pale, doughy body speaks of a sedentary lifestyle, his portly frame straining against ill-fitting clothes. At 50-odd years, his severely balding pate gleams under fluorescent lights, wisps of greasy hair clinging desperately to his scalp. His face is a map of deep-set wrinkles and sagging jowls, often glistening with a sheen of sweat. His beady eyes dart lecherously, lingering too long on female bodies. His very presence seems to repel, a miasma of stale body odor and cheap cologne following him. The women in our community visibly recoil when he's near, his reputation for unwanted advances preceding him.

[Yesudoss]

Nice start. Please remove the landlord and continue with plumber.

[Sad Ash Rafa]

The hot wife with the ugly landlord seems to have great potential

[raja shri]

Congratulations bro for new story ,

[Bigil]

The beautiful housewife and muscled man will make a deadly combo. Her inner desires can be brought out and satisfied only by him. She will never get attracted towards an short ugly man

[incest_cuck]

Now, on with the story.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across our bedroom as I watched Aradhya slip out of her clothes. Even after a year of marriage, the sight of her lithe body never failed to arouse me. Her smooth, caramel skin gleamed in the dim light as she unhooked her bra, her full breasts bouncing free. I felt my cock twitch in anticipation, already hardening despite my anxiety.

Aradhya turned to face me, a coy smile playing on her full lips. Her nipples were already pebbled, dark and inviting. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, slowly shimmying it down her hips. The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her in just a pair of lacy red panties that barely covered her ass.

"Like what you see?" she purred, doing a slow turn. My eyes devoured every curve, from her toned calves to the swell of her breasts.

"Always," I breathed, my voice rough with desire.

Aradhya crawled onto the bed, her movements feline and sensual. "Honey," she murmured, "I've been thinking about you all day." Her hand trailed up my thigh, fingers brushing teasingly close to my groin. The light touch sent shivers through my body, my cock straining against my boxers.

I swallowed hard, torn between desire and dread. "Me too, babe," I managed, my voice husky. The scent of her arousal filled my nostrils, a heady mix of her floral perfume and something uniquely her.

She straddled my lap, her warm center pressing against my erection. I could feel the dampness of her pussy through the thin fabric of her panties. Her lips found mine, her tongue slipping into my mouth as she pressed her soft 34B tits against my chest. The kiss was hungry, desperate – a stark reminder of how long it had been since we'd had truly satisfying sex.

My hands roamed her back, relishing the feel of her warm skin. I traced the curve of her spine, down to the swell of her ass. Aradhya moaned into my mouth as I squeezed her cheeks, pulling her closer. But even as arousal flooded my body, that familiar panic began to set in.

"Mmmmmm…." Aradhya hummed, grinding her hips against mine. The friction was delicious torture. "I want you so bad, Arijit."

She peppered kisses along my jaw, down my neck. Her teeth grazed my collarbone, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my groin. I was already trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Baby," I gasped, "maybe we should slow down..."

But Aradhya was lost in her own desire. She slid down my body, her breasts dragging against my chest and stomach. With deft fingers, she tugged my boxers off, freeing my rock-hard cock. It sprang up, angry and red, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

"Fuck!" I groaned as she wrapped her lips around the head, her tongue swirling expertly. The wet heat of her mouth was exquisite torture. I tangled my fingers in her silky hair, fighting the urge to thrust up into her throat. She hollowed her cheeks, taking me deeper. Her hand wrapped around the base of my shaft, pumping in time with her bobbing head. The sight of her lips stretched around my cock, combined with the sensation of her talented mouth, was quickly pushing me to the edge.

"A-Aradhya," I gasped, my thighs tensing, "slow down, I'm gonna-"

But it was too late. With a strangled cry, I exploded into her mouth after just a few bobs of her head. My hips jerked uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me gasping and spent. Aradhya pulled back, cum dribbling down her chin as she fixed me with a frustrated glare. Her chest heaved, her neglected nipples still hard and begging for attention.

"Again?" she sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "We barely even started, Ari."

Shame and disappointment flooded through me as I avoided her gaze. My softening cock lay limp against my thigh, a pitiful sight. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, knowing the words were woefully inadequate. "I just get so excited..."

Aradhya flopped onto her back beside me, staring at the ceiling. I could practically feel the sexual frustration radiating off her slim-thick body. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, likely trying to alleviate the ache between them.

"Maybe we should try again in a bit," she said, but we both knew it was unlikely I'd be ready again anytime soon. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken disappointment. As we lay there, I wondered how much longer my wife would put up with my inability to satisfy her needs. I watched her out of the corner of my eye – her flushed cheeks, the rise and fall of her chest, the dampness still visible on her panties. All signs of an arousal I couldn't properly address.

Something had to change, and soon - before our marriage crumbled under the weight of my sexual shortcomings. The thought of losing Aradhya, of her seeking satisfaction elsewhere, made my stomach churn. But how could I blame her, when I consistently left her wanting?

A little bit of backstory about us:
When I was 32, the pressure to find a suitable bride was becoming unbearable. My parents' constant reminders echoed in my head: "Beta, even your younger cousins are married now. When will you settle down?"

They opened up an account for me on a matrimonial site. A month went by and that's when I saw her profile. Aradhya Chatterjee, 27, technical writer. Her photo caught my eye first - warm brown eyes, a mischievous smile, and long, wavy hair that begged to be touched. But it was her bio that truly captivated me:

"Bookworm seeking her charming prince. Must love spicy food and spicier debates. Message me if you can keep up!"

My heart raced as I sent a connection request. To my surprise, she responded within hours. Our first chat stretched late into the night, discussing everything from our favorite Bengali authors to politics to the merits of different healthy diets. By the time we agreed to meet in person, I was already half in love.

We met at a small café in Park Street, the aroma of fresh coffee mingling with the ever-present Kolkata humidity. Aradhya walked in wearing a red and white salwar kameez that hugged her curves in all the right places. My mouth went dry.

"You must be Arijit," she said, her voice melodic. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

I stumbled over my words, feeling every bit the awkward software engineer. "N-no, not at all. It's great to finally meet you, Aradhya." As we talked, I found myself captivated by more than just her beauty. Aradhya was wickedly intelligent, her eyes lighting up as she described her work at a local tech startup. She gesticulated animatedly, her bangles jingling with each movement.

"So, tell me about your past relationships," she asked over chai, a glint in her eye.

I felt heat creep up my neck. "Ah, well... there's not much to tell, honestly. I've been so focused on my career, I haven't really..."

Aradhya's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, are you saying you've never...?"

I nodded, embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm... I'm a virgin."

To my relief, she didn't laugh. Instead, she reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Hey, no judgment here. Everyone moves at their own pace."

Her touch sent tingles up my arm. "What about you?" I asked, trying to deflect attention.

Aradhya's lips curled into a secretive smile. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of experiences. But I'm looking for something real now, you know?"

We continued to go on dates, stealing moments between our hectic work schedules. Stolen kisses in the back of taxis, heated make-out sessions in my tiny flat. But we never went all the way, agreeing to wait until after marriage. Six months later, we were in fact, married in a traditional Bengali ceremony. I'd never seen anything as beautiful as Aradhya in her red and gold benarasi saree, her eyes shining with happiness as we exchanged garlands.

[sri7869]

Nice update

[drillhot]

Awesome start

[Kalyan143]

Good start

[Givemeextra]

Virgin Husband / Experienced Wife = nIcE CoNcEpT

[incest_cuck]

On our wedding night, in my old bedroom at my parent's house, nerves and excitement thrummed through my body. Aradhya emerged from the bathroom in a sheer negligee, her nipples visible through the delicate fabric.

"Come here, husband." she purred, crooking her finger.

I approached on shaky legs, my heart pounding so hard I was sure Aradhya could hear it. My erection strained against my silk pajamas, creating a visible tent that I couldn't hide even if I wanted to. Each step felt like an eternity, my eyes drinking in the sight of my new wife. Her negligee left little to the imagination. The sheer fabric clung to her curves, the pale pink material a stark contrast against her caramel skin. Her nipples, dark and erect, pressed against the delicate lace trim. The hem barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the soft flesh there.

As I reached her, Aradhya's arms snaked around my neck, pulling me close. The heat of her body seeped through my thin pajamas, and I could feel the hard points of her nipples against my chest. Her lips met mine in a passionate kiss, soft yet demanding. The taste of her exploded on my tongue - a hint of mint from her toothpaste mixed with something uniquely Aradhya. Her tongue darted out, teasing the seam of my lips before slipping inside. I groaned, my hands finally daring to touch her, resting tentatively on her waist. My new wife then deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair. She tugged gently, angling my head to give her better access. Her other hand began to roam, leaving trails of fire in its wake. She traced the line of my jaw, fingers ghosting down my neck to my collarbone. I shivered as her palm flattened against my chest, feeling my racing heartbeat. Slowly, torturously, she dragged her nails down my torso. Even through the fabric of my pajama top, the sensation sent jolts of pleasure straight to my groin.

"Aradhya," I gasped, breaking the kiss to gulp in air.

She smiled wickedly, her hand dipping lower. "Shh," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "Let me take care of you, baby." Her fingers traced the waistband of my pajamas, teasing the sensitive skin of my lower belly. My cock twitched in anticipation, a damp spot forming where the head pressed against the silk. Her hand slipped lower, cupping my erection through the fabric. I bit back a moan, my hips instinctively bucking into her touch. She squeezed gently, her thumb rubbing circles over the wet spot.

"Someone's excited," she purred, nipping at my earlobe.

I could only nod, words failing me as pleasure coursed through my body. Aradhya's free hand worked at the buttons of my top, pushing it off my shoulders to pool on the floor. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on my skin, a stark contrast to the heat of her touch. Her lips left a trail of fire down my neck, across my collarbone. I gasped as she flicked her tongue over my nipple, the sensation new and intensely erotic. My hands, which had been uselessly at my sides, finally came to life. I ran my fingers through her silky hair, down the smooth expanse of her back. My wife hummed in approval, the vibration against my chest sending shivers down my spine. Her hand never stopped its gentle ministrations on my cock, the silk of my pajamas creating a delicious friction.

"A-Aradhya," I stammered, feeling my control already starting to slip. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to-" She silenced me with another searing kiss, her tongue mimicking the actions I desperately wanted to feel elsewhere. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire.

"I want to taste you," she whispered, sinking slowly to her knees.

The sight of my new wife kneeling before me, her fingers hooked in the waistband of my pajamas, nearly undid me then and there. I took a shuddering breath, trying desperately to hold on to my rapidly fraying self-control. Aradhya's fingers hooked into the waistband of my pajamas, slowly tugging them down. The silk whispered against my skin, catching briefly on my straining erection before springing free. My modest 5.5-inch cock bobbed in the cool air, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

"Oh my," Aradhya breathed, her eyes widening. "You've been hiding this from me all this time?"

Her warm breath ghosted over my sensitive flesh, making me twitch. I looked down, mesmerized by the sight of my wife on her knees, her plump lips mere inches from my cock. Aradhya met my gaze, a wicked glint in her eyes as she leaned forward. Her tongue darted out, lapping at the pre-cum on my tip. The sensation was electric, drawing a strangled moan from my throat. "Fuck, Aradhya!" I gasped, my fingers tangling in her hair.

She hummed in approval, her lips wrapping around the head of my cock. The wet heat of her mouth was almost too much to bear. I bit my lip hard, desperately trying to hold back the orgasm already building at the base of my spine. Her tongue swirled around my shaft as she took me deeper, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. One hand gripped the base of my cock, while the other cupped my balls, rolling them gently.

"Oh Gosh, oh Gosh," I chanted, my hips jerking involuntarily. "Aradhya, I'm not going to last-"

She pulled back, her hand still stroking me firmly. "It's okay, baby," she purred, her voice husky with desire. "We have all night. Cum for me."

With that, she took me back into her mouth, sucking hard. Her tongue pressed against the sensitive underside of my cock, and I was lost. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, my vision whiting out as I emptied myself into Aradhya's eager mouth.

"Fuck! Aradhya! Ahhh!" I cried out, my hips bucking erratically as she swallowed every drop.

As the aftershocks subsided, I sagged back against the bed, my legs trembling. Aradhya released my softening cock with a wet 'pop', licking her lips as she looked up at me.

"Delicious," she grinned, rising to her feet. "Now, are you ready to return the favor?"

Despite having just cum, I felt a stirring of arousal at her words. I nodded eagerly, pulling Aradhya onto the bed with me. She giggled as I rolled her onto her back, settling between her spread thighs. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, musky and sweet. I nuzzled against her inner thigh, placing soft kisses on the sensitive skin. Aradhya's fingers threaded through my hair, guiding me to where she needed me most.

"Please, Ari…" she whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed. I ran my tongue along her slit, groaning at the taste of her. Her pussy was already slick with desire, her inner lips swollen and flushed. I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, relishing in the breathy moans falling from her upper lips.

"Yes, just like that," she gasped, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.

Encouraged, I doubled my efforts, alternating between broad licks and focused attention on her clit. I slipped two fingers inside her, marveling at the silky heat of her walls clenching around me.

Aradhya's moans grew louder, her hips grinding against my face as she chased her pleasure. "Oh fuck, Arijit!"

I sucked her clit between my lips, flicking it rapidly with my tongue as I curled my fingers inside her. "I'm gonna cum!", Aradhya's back arched off the bed, a cry of ecstasy tearing from her throat as she came. Her thighs clamped around my head, her pussy pulsing around my fingers. I gentled my movements, helping her ride out the aftershocks until she tugged me up her body. Aradhya kissed me deeply, tasting herself on my lips.

"That was amazing," she panted, her eyes shining with post-orgasmic bliss. To my surprise, I realized I was hard again, my cock pressing insistently against Aradhya's thigh. She noticed too, a slow smile spreading across her face.

"Ready for round two?" she asked. Feeling proud of myself, I nodded and moved up her body, positioning myself at her entrance. Aradhya's eyes were dark with desire as she wrapped her legs around my waist. My heart was racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"Make love to me, husband!" she whispered.

I pushed inside her slowly, groaning at the tight, wet heat enveloping me. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I managed two, maybe three thrusts before the overwhelming sensation became too much. "Shit, I'm- I'm cumming!" I gasped, my hips jerking erratically.

Aradhya's eyes widened in surprise as I collapsed on top of her, spent. "Oh... okay," she said, patting my back. "That was... quick."

Embarrassment washed over me as I rolled off her. "I'm so sorry," I mumbled. "I've never... it was just so intense."

Aradhya cuddled close, her voice gentle. "Hey, it's alright. It was your first time. We'll work on it together, okay?"

But as the months passed, things didn't improve. No matter what techniques we tried - thinking of unsexy things, using desensitizing creams - I couldn't last more than a minute or two inside her. Aradhya was patient, always reassuring me that it was okay. But I could see the frustration building in her eyes, feel the tension in her body when I finished too soon.

A year after our marriage, we moved into our own one-bedroom apartment in Salt Lake City. It should have been an exciting new chapter, but the shadow of our unsatisfying sex life loomed large.

Which brings us to tonight. As I lay beside my beautiful, frustrated wife, I knew something had to change. The question was... what?

[Givemeextra]

A year after our marriage, we moved into our own one-bedroom apartment in Salt Lake City. It should have been an exciting new chapter, but the shadow of our unsatisfying sex life loomed large.

Which brings us to tonight. As I lay beside my beautiful, frustrated wife, I knew something had to change. The question was... what?

Yes, what needed changing?  Eager to see how Hubby thinks and what all influences him.

Good updates.

[incest_cuck]

After a month of moving into our new apartment, the first sign of trouble reared it's ugly head on a sweltering Tuesday morning. I'd just stumbled out of bed, bleary-eyed and desperate for a piss, when I heard it - an ominous gurgling from the bathroom.

"Shit!" I muttered, fumbling with my boxers as I approached the toilet. The water level was rising rapidly, dirty and foul-smelling. I jammed my hand into the tank, frantically jiggling the flush mechanism. Nothing.

"Aradhya!" I called out, panic rising in my throat. "We've got a problem!"

My wife appeared in the doorway, her hair mussed from sleep. "What's wrong, Ari?"

"The fucking toilet's backed up," I groaned, gesturing helplessly at the porcelain menace. "It won't flush."

Aradhya's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ugh, it reeks. Can't you fix it?"

I shot her an exasperated look. "Does it look like I know how to fix a toilet?"

For the next hour, we tried everything we could think of. Plunging, snaking, even pouring boiling water down the bowl. Nothing worked. The toilet gurgled mockingly, water sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

"This is bullshit," I snarled, slamming the plunger down. "We're paying a fortune for this 'luxury' apartment, and the fucking toilet doesn't even work!"

Aradhya placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "Let's call the landlord. He'll have to send someone to fix it."

The conversation with our landlord, Mr. Banerjee, was an exercise in frustration. His nasal voice crackled through the speakerphone, each word grating on my already frayed nerves.

"But Arijit…", he whined, "surely you can handle a small plumbing issue? I thought you were an educated man."

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to hurl the phone across the room. "Mr. Banerjee, with all due respect, I'm a software engineer, not a plumber. This is clearly a building issue, and it's your responsibility to fix it."

"Well, I don't know any reliable plumbers in that area," he hedged. "Perhaps you could find someone?"

"We just moved here!" I exploded. "We don't know anyone! This is your property, your problem!"

The argument went back and forth, my blood pressure rising with each passing minute. Aradhya paced behind me, her face a mask of concern. Finally, after what felt like hours, our landlord relented. "Fine, fine. I'll send over a local plumber I've used before. But if he says it's your fault, you're paying for it!"

I ended the call with a vicious jab, collapsing onto the sofa with a groan. Aradhya sat beside me, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"It'll be okay, Ari." she murmured. "At least someone's coming to fix it."

The doorbell rang at precisely 2 PM. I opened the door, still irritated from the morning's ordeal. The man standing there was not what I expected.

"Good morning, sahab. " he rumbled, his voice deep and gruff. "I'm Harpreet. Here to fix the toilet." He was closer to Aradhya’s age (mid-late 20s), a mountain of a man, easily 6'2" and built like a wrestler gone slightly to seed. His arms, exposed by a grimy white t-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest, were covered in dirt and grime. A thick, well-groomed beard framed a face that looked like it had seen its share of bar fights.

"Uh, yes, come in," I stammered, with my 5’4” frame, suddenly feeling very small in comparison. As Harpreet lumbered past me, the scent of sweat and motor oil filled the air. His toolbox clanked against his meaty thigh with each step.

"Where's the problem?" he grunted, scanning our apartment with dark, appraising eyes.

"The bathroom's just down the hall," I replied, closing the door. "My wife can show you-"

As if on cue, Aradhya emerged from our bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes. My breath caught in my throat. In her groggy state, she'd forgotten about our visitor. Her nightdress, a flimsy scrap of silk and lace, clung to her curves like a second skin. The spaghetti straps had slipped off one shoulder, revealing more of her dusky, caramel-hued skin. Without a bra, the swell of her medium-sized breasts was clearly visible, her dark nipples pressing against the thin fabric.

"Ari? Who was at the-" Aradhya froze mid-sentence, suddenly wide awake as she noticed Harpreet.

For a moment, no one moved. I watched as Aradhya's eyes widened, taking in the plumber's imposing form. Her gaze lingered on his muscular arms, the tight stretch of his shirt across his broad chest. A flush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks pink. Harpreet's reaction was equally telling. His dark eyes raked over Aradhya's body, drinking in the sight of her curves barely concealed by the thin nightdress. They paused on the outline of her nipples, clearly visible through the fabric, before moving to her face. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, into a smirk.

"Memsaab," he said, his voice noticeably huskier. "I'm here to... take care of your problem."

Aradhya swallowed hard, her hand flying to her throat. "Oh! Yes, the toilet. It's, um, this way."

As she led Harpreet to the bathroom, I couldn't help but notice the extra sway in her hips, the way the nightdress clung to the curve of her ass with each step. She glanced over her shoulder, ostensibly to ensure he was following, but I caught the way her eyes flicked appreciatively over his tall, broad and masculine frame.  A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, a mixture of jealousy and... something else. Something that made my pulse quicken as I watched my wife interact with this rough, imposing stranger. I trailed behind them, watching as Aradhya explained the issue to Harpreet. She gesticulated animatedly, her nightdress riding up her thighs with each movement. Harpreet nodded, his eyes never leaving her face, but I could see the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"No problem, memsaab," he said, his Punjabi accent thick and rich. "I fixing it fast-fast, you see." As Harpreet bent to examine the toilet, his shirt rode up, exposing a strip of tanned skin and the waistband of his underwear. I caught Aradhya biting her lip, her eyes fixed on the plumber's broad back.

"Uh, Aradhya?" I said, my voice coming out higher than intended. "Maybe you should get dressed while Harpreet works?"

She startled, as if remembering my presence. "Oh! Yes, of course. I'll just... be a minute."

As my wife hurried from the bathroom, Harpreet straightened up, his knowing gaze meeting mine. There was a challenge there, a primal assertion of dominance that made me want to look away.

"Don't worry, saar," he said, his tone deceptively casual. "I take good care of everything."

As I watched him turn back to his work, muscles rippling under his sweat-stained shirt, I couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't just talking about the toilet. The air grew thick with tension as Harpreet resumed his task. I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from his powerful form, watching as he manipulated tools with practiced ease. Each flex of his arms, each grunt of effort, sent a confusing jolt through my body. Time seemed to stretch endlessly as he worked, the silence broken only by the clink of metal on porcelain and the occasional sound of running water. I shifted uncomfortably, acutely aware of my own inadequacy in the face of his raw masculinity. Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, Harpreet's movements slowed. He gave one last twist of his wrench, the muscles in his back bunching impressively under his thin shirt.

As he finished tightening the last bolt, he wiped his brow with a grimy forearm. "All set, sir. Should work fine now."

I nodded, relief flooding through me. "Thank you. Let me get your payment-"

But as I turned to fetch my wallet, Aradhya appeared in the doorway. She'd changed into a sundress, but it was hardly more modest than her nightgown. The thin fabric clung to her curves, the neckline dipping low to reveal the swell of her breasts.

Harpreet's eyes locked onto her, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Memsaab," he rumbled, his voice husky. "Toilet fixed."

Aradhya smiled, a slow, sultry curve of her lips. "Thank you so much. We really appreciate your help."

The air crackled with tension as they stared at each other. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Right, well, let me get your money-"

"No need," Harpreet grunted, tearing his gaze away from Aradhya. He gathered his tools quickly, movements jerky and uncoordinated. "I come back later with bill." Before I could protest, he was gone, the door slamming behind him. I blinked, confused by the abrupt departure.

"Well, that was... odd," I muttered. Turning to Aradhya, I noticed a faint flush on her cheeks. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't warn you about when he was coming. I should have-"

Aradhya waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry about it, Ari. It's no big deal." She paused, biting her lip. "So... what was his name again?"

"Harpreet.", I replied, a niggle of suspicion forming in my gut.

"Harpreet." she repeated, rolling the name on her tongue. "And where do you think he's from? Punjab, obviously, but which part?"

I shrugged, uncomfortable with her sudden interest. "I don't know. Why does it matter?"

Aradhya's eyes widened innocently. "Just curious. Do you think he'll come back with the bill sometime soon?"

The hope in her voice was unmistakable. I frowned, jealousy and something darker stirring in my chest. "Maybe. He seemed... distracted."

"Hmmm…", Aradhya hummed, a small smile playing on her lips. She stretched languidly, the movement causing her dress to ride up her thighs. "Well, I'm sure if he needs it, he knows where to find us."

I watched her saunter away, hips swaying hypnotically. The image of Harpreet's hungry gaze on my wife flashed through my mind, along with the memory of Aradhya's past preferences. As I stood there, stewing in my thoughts, memories of conversations past bubbled to the surface. Aradhya's college years in Delhi. Those Punjabi boyfriends she'd mentioned so casually, yet with a hint of nostalgia that had always niggled at me.

"Yeah," I muttered to myself, a mix of emotions churning in my gut. "I'm sure he does."

The rest of the day passed in a haze of unspoken tension. Aradhya seemed distracted, her mind clearly elsewhere. More than once, I caught her staring out the window, as if expecting - or hoping - to see a familiar hulking figure.

[Givemeextra]

The hope in her voice was unmistakable. I frowned, jealousy and something darker stirring in my chest. "Maybe. He seemed... distracted."

"Hmmm…", Aradhya hummed, a small smile playing on her lips. She stretched languidly, the movement causing her dress to ride up her thighs. "Well, I'm sure if he needs it, he knows where to find us."

As I stood there, stewing in my thoughts, memories of conversations past bubbled to the surface. Aradhya's college years in Delhi. Those Punjabi boyfriends she'd mentioned so casually, yet with a hint of nostalgia that had always niggled at me.

   -  LUST at First Sight  =   Author, you conveyed very well this message.

[Givemeextra]

As if on cue, Aradhya emerged from our bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes. My breath caught in my throat. In her groggy state, she'd forgotten about our visitor. Her nightdress, a flimsy scrap of silk and lace, clung to her curves like a second skin. The spaghetti straps had slipped off one shoulder, revealing more of her dusky, caramel-hued skin. Without a bra, the swell of her medium-sized breasts was clearly visible, her dark nipples pressing against the thin fabric.

in traditional sex stories, wifey would have come out with just a towel [exposing much of her thighs and top portion of breasts]
May be next time, when plumber comes to collect money, wifey can greet him this way  [But hope Hubby there to, else no thrill]

[ronylol]

super going

[Invincible_789]

It's a very nice story with good pacing and lists of history with your wife's previous talks on her boyfriend (you can increase that more let's get an insight of her exes and fun before marrying you in short conversation between you both) .keep it up waiting for final part

[Vasanthan]

Amazing update

[incest_cuck]

After dinner, Aradhya and I began washing the dishes. The gentle clink of dishes filled the kitchen as I scrubbed a plate, tension thrumming beneath the surface of domestic normalcy. My wife hummed softly beside me, drying each dish I handed her. Her fingers brushed mine with each exchange, sending little sparks of electricity through my skin.

"So," I began, trying to keep my tone casual, "about that plumber today..."

Aradhya's humming stopped abruptly. "What about him?" Her voice was carefully neutral.

I handed her another plate, watching her face carefully. "I couldn't help but notice how you looked at him. And how he looked at you."

Her cheeks darkened slightly, but she kept her eyes fixed on the dish in her hands. "I don't know what you mean, Ari."

"Come on, Aradhya," I pressed gently. "The way your eyes followed him, how you kept asking questions about him after he left. How did it make you feel, seeing him?"

Aradhya set the plate down, her movements slow and deliberate. She didn't meet my eyes. "I was just being polite, that's all. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

I sighed, frustrated by her evasion. "I'm not making a big deal. I'm just asking how you felt."

She turned to face me, arms crossed defensively. "Are you jealous, Ari?" she asked, a note of challenge in her voice.

I chuckled, though it felt hollow. "Maybe a little.", I admitted. "But mostly, I'm curious. You seemed... affected by him."

Aradhya's posture stiffened. "Affected? He fixed our toilet, Ari. That's all." She turned back to the dishes, scrubbing with unnecessary force.

I watched her for a moment, noting the tension in her shoulders. "You've mentioned your thing for tall, dark and handsome Punjabi men before. Your ex-boyfriends from Delhi, for instance?", I said softly, "Harpreet seemed to tick all those boxes."

Her movements faltered for a split second. "That was a long time ago.", she muttered. "It doesn't mean anything now."

"Doesn't it?" I countered gently. "You seemed pretty interested in him."

Aradhya slammed the sponge down, whirling to face me. "What do you want me to say, Ari? That I found him attractive? Fine, yes, he was good-looking. Is that a crime now?"

I held up my hands placatingly. "No, of course not. I just... I want you to be honest with me. And with yourself."

She deflated slightly, the fight leaving her. "I don't know what you want from me," she said quietly.

"Just the truth…", I replied. "How did seeing him make you feel?"

Aradhya was silent for a long moment, her eyes darting away from mine. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Fine! It's not just about looks. It's... it's complicated."

"Try me…", I urged, my heart racing. "Help me understand."

She bit her lip, clearly torn between staying silent and opening up. Finally, she met my eyes, her own dark with a mixture of shame and something else... desire? "It's the way he carried himself." she admitted softly, "The raw masculinity. It's... intoxicating."

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to ask, "Did that make you feel a certain way?"

Aradhya's breath hitched, her internal struggle visible on her face. "Yes," she breathed finally, the word hanging heavy between us. "Sue me, but yes. When I saw him, all I could think about was..." She paused, but I could fill in the blanks. The image of Harpreet's massive hands on Aradhya's delicate frame flashed through my mind again, sending a confusing mix of jealousy and arousal coursing through me.

"Tell me…", I urged, my voice hoarse. "Tell me what you thought about."

Aradhya stepped closer, her body heat radiating against me. "Are you sure you want to know?" she asked, her voice low and husky. As I nodded, unable to speak, I realized we were stepping into dangerous territory. But the pull was irresistible, like gravity drawing us towards an unknown abyss.

"I thought about his hands…", Aradhya began, her words coming faster now. "How they'd feel on my skin, so rough and calloused. I imagined him picking me up like I weighed nothing, pinning me against the wall...", she paused.

"Go on.", I urged softly, my heart pounding. "Tell me more."

She took another deep breath. "It wasn't just physical, though. There was something in his eyes... a hunger, a primal intensity. Like he could devour me whole." Her cheeks flushed deeper, her breathing quickening. "I thought about him taking me, right there in our bathroom. Hard and fast and... and..."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Go on, Aradhya. What else did you imagine?"

She hesitated, her eyes darting to mine. "Are you sure, Ari? This is... it's pretty intense."

"I'm sure.", I said, my voice low. "I want to hear it all."

Aradhya took a shaky breath. "Okay... well, I thought about his voice. That deep rumble, like distant thunder. I imagined him grunting in Punjabi, words I wouldn't understand but could feel in my bones." Her voice grew huskier, eyes unfocused. "I pictured his huge hands on my waist, gripping me so hard I'd have bruises. The calluses on his palms catching on my skin as he..." she continued, her words coming faster now. "I thought about him bending me over the sink. His broad chest pressed against my back, one hand tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to make me gasp." Aradhya's breath hitched, her cheeks flushed. "I imagined the smell of him - sweat and motor oil and raw masculinity. The contrast of his rough stubble against my neck as he... as he..."

She trailed off, her eyes meeting mine, dark with a mixture of arousal and guilt. "Gosh, Ari. The things I imagined him doing to me... It's not right. It's not fair to you."

I swallowed hard, my own breath coming quicker. "It's okay, Aradhya. What else?"

She shook her head slightly, as if trying to clear it. "I thought about afterwards. How he'd probably just zip up and leave without a word, maybe just a grunt of satisfaction. And I... I realized part of me would be okay with that. More than okay." Aradhya's voice dropped to a whisper. "Is that terrible of me? To want something so... primal? So disconnected?"

I could see the conflict in her eyes, the war between desire and propriety. She opened her mouth to speak again, but I could tell she was about to apologize, to try and take it all back.

Before she could, I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Aradhya, listen to me. It's not terrible. It's... it's human. Raw and honest and incredibly arousing."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're not disgusted? Or hurt?"

I shook my head, surprised to find I meant it. "No, I'm not. I'm glad you felt you could share this with me. Thank you for trusting me with your fantasies."

As we stood there in our kitchen, dishes forgotten, I realized we'd crossed a threshold. The air between us crackled with a new energy, fraught with possibility and danger in equal measure. Her confession hung in the air between us, charged with illicit desires and forbidden fantasies. As I looked into Aradhya's eyes, dark with lust and a hint of fear, I knew our lives had irrevocably changed.

The night stretched endlessly, sleep eluding me as I lay beside Aradhya's sleeping form. Her confession played on repeat in my mind, each iteration more vivid than the last. I pictured Harpreet's massive frame looming over Aradhya's petite figure. His rough, calloused hands sliding over her smooth skin. The contrast was stark - his darkness to her light, his coarseness to her refinement.

My cock twitched, hardening against my will. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it only made the images more intense. Harpreet's thick fingers tangling in Aradhya's hair, yanking her head back. His lips, surrounded by scratchy stubble, attacking her exposed neck. Aradhya's breathy moans filling our bathroom. I imagined her wrapping her legs around his waist as he hoisted her up, pinning her against the tiled wall. The muscles in his arms bulging with the effort, but barely straining under her weight.

My hand drifted down, brushing against my erection. Shame and arousal warred within me. In my mind's eye, the dirty brutish plumber had thrust into Aradhya, hard and deep. No finesse, no gentle lovemaking. Just raw, animal fucking. The kind of primal pounding I could never give her. This made me think of my own sexual shortcomings - how I often finished before Aradhya even got started. How she'd comfort me, telling me it was okay, that she didn't mind. But now I wondered... had she been thinking of men like that plumber all along? The image shifted. Now I saw myself in the corner of the bathroom, watching as that dirty, low-class plumber ravaged my wife. Aradhya's eyes meeting mine over his shoulder, glazed with pleasure I'd never been able to give her.

My cock throbbed painfully. I was rock hard, leaking pre-cum, more turned on than I could ever remember being. What was wrong with me? I should be furious, jealous, heartbroken. Instead, I was achingly aroused. I turned my head to look at my wife. In sleep, her face was peaceful, innocent. But I couldn't shake the memory of her flushed cheeks and dark eyes as she'd described her fantasies. What would she say if she knew the thoughts running through my head? If she knew that picturing her with another man - a man so different from me - was making me harder than I'd ever been?

As the first light of dawn crept through our curtains, I was no closer to sleep. But I was closer to a realization that both terrified and thrilled me: Maybe, just maybe, I wanted to see those fantasies become reality.

[Givemeextra]

As the first light of dawn crept through our curtains, I was no closer to sleep. But I was closer to a realization that both terrified and thrilled me: Maybe, just maybe, I wanted to see those fantasies become reality.

Now I get why idiot hubby tempting wifey so much - Story title fits plot perfectly.

Cucky Hubby