Adultery Wife helps me become a cuckold

[drillhot]

Awesome update

[incest_cuck]

(Aradhya’s narration continues)

Harpreet's hands slid up my thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties. I tensed, grabbing his wrists. "Wait…", I gasped, my heart racing.

He looked up, confusion in his eyes. "What wrong, jaan? You not want?"

I bit my lip, torn between desire and apprehension. "We... We've never...", I trailed off, embarrassed.

Understanding dawned on his face. "Ah, I see. No worry, jaan. I take good care of you."

His confidence was both terrifying and arousing. I thought about Mr. Banerjee, about the stress crushing me. Then I looked at Harpreet - this rough, low-class plumber who made me feel things I'd never felt before.

"Okay.", I whispered, releasing his wrists.

Harpreet grinned, slowly sliding my panties down. I lifted my hips, helping him. The cool air hit my most intimate parts, making me shiver.

"Sexy.", he murmured, his accent thick with desire. "Now, you relax. Let Harpreet paji make you feel good."

He started slowly, teasingly. His beard scratched my inner thighs as he kissed his way up. I was trembling, half from nerves, half from anticipation.

The first swipe of his tongue made me gasp. "Oh my gosh!"

He chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through me. "That's it, jaan. Let go. Let me hear you."

And I did, Ari. I let go. As Harpreet's tongue worked between my thighs, I lost myself in the sensations. He continued with broad, flat licks, then zeroed in on my clit. His tongue swirled and flicked, occasionally sucking. The contrast of his soft tongue and rough beard drove me wild. I couldn't stop squirming, my hips bucking against his face.

"F-fuck... Hnngh!", I panted, grinding shamelessly. My hands fisted in the sheets - our sheets - as pleasure washed over me. "Ah! Yes! Oh fuck, Harpreet!" I didn't recognize my own voice, raw and desperate. He was relentless though, his other large hand holding my thighs apart as he devoured me. Every lick, every suck pushed me closer to the edge.

I don't know how long it lasted. Time lost all meaning. All I knew was the pleasure building inside me, coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I'd shatter. When I came, it was with a scream I muffled against my arm. My body arched off the bed, held in place only by Harpreet's strong hands. My thighs clamped around his head. He didn't stop, drawing out my orgasm until I was quivering and oversensitive. Only then did he lift his head, his beard glistening. He looked... proud. Smug, even.

"You okay, jaan?", he asked, eyes twinkling.

I laughed breathlessly, feeling more relaxed than I had in days. "I'm not sure right now.", I admitted.

He grinned, crawling up to kiss me deeply. I tasted myself on his tongue, sending another thrill through me. It was intoxicating, but also a stark reminder of what we’d just done. As we kissed, I felt something hard pressing against my thigh. I knew what it was, of course. I’d seen it before, felt it in my hand. But this time... this time felt different. I broke the kiss, looking up at Harpreet. His eyes were dark with desire, his breathing heavy. That’s when I noticed the bulge in his work pants. It looked... huge. Bigger than I remembered.

"You like what you see, jaan?", Harpreet asked, a smirk on his face. He shifted, making his erection more prominent.

I bit my lip, conflicted. We’d crossed so many lines already, but this... this felt like the point of no return. Since we’ve been married, I’d obviously never gone down on anyone but you, Ari. The thought of doing it with Harpreet both thrilled and terrified me.

"I... I don’t know if we should..." I started, my voice trembling.

Harpreet’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of concern. "What wrong now, jaan?"

I couldn’t meet his eyes. "It’s not that I don’t want to.", I admitted. "It’s just... I’ve never done this with anyone but my husband."

Harpreet was quiet for a moment. Then he reached out, gently tilting my chin up to look at him. "Is okay, jaan. We not have to do anything you not want. But...", he paused, his eyes roaming over my body. "I want you so bad. Want to feel your mouth on me."

His words sent a shiver through me. I could feel my resolve weakening. "I... I don’t know..."

"Please, jaan….", he said, his voice low and husky. "I make you feel so good, yes? Let me show you how good it can be for both of us."

I hesitated, my mind racing. I thought about you, Arijit. About your permission, about how far you’d said I could go. But you hadn’t specifically mentioned this, had you? Was this crossing a line? As if sensing my indecision, Harpreet took my hand and placed it on his crotch. I could feel the heat of him through his pants, the hardness straining against the fabric. Despite myself, I gave a small squeeze, drawing a groan from him.

"See how hard I am for you?", he said, his accent thicker with arousal. "Only you make me feel this way, jaan."

My mouth went dry. I licked my lips, noticing how Harpreet’s eyes followed the movement. "It’s not that I haven’t done this before.", I confessed. "It’s just... you’re so much bigger than anyone I’ve been with."

He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through his body and into my hand. "We take it slow, jaan. You do what you comfortable with."

Something about his words, about the idea of trying to take on this challenge, broke down the last of my resistance. Slowly, I nodded.

Harpreet’s face lit up with a grin. He leaned in, kissing me deeply. When he pulled back, he whispered, "Thank you, jaan."

With slightly steadier hands than before, I reached for his belt. The leather was worn, the buckle tarnished. It spoke of long days of hard work. As I undid it, I could smell him - a musky, masculine scent mixed with sweat and something distinctly steely. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it wasn’t off-putting either. If anything, it made this feel more real, more raw. I unzipped his pants, my heart pounding with anticipation. He lifted his hips, helping me slide his pants and underwear down. And then... there it was. It sprang free, long and thick, dark, curving slightly to the left. The head was flushed and glistening, a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip. And the smell... it was stronger now, that mix of musk and sweat and man. It should have turned me off, but instead, I felt a rush of heat between my legs.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to do. "Harpreet", I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "lie down on the bed. I want to... I want to position myself properly."

He grinned, a mix of excitement and anticipation in his eyes. "Of course, jaan.", he replied, his accent thick with arousal. He shuffled back on the bed, his massive erection bobbing as he moved.

I watched as he settled himself, his hairy legs spread slightly. The sight of him like that, so open and vulnerable yet so powerfully masculine, sent another rush of heat through me. I crawled onto the bed, positioning myself between his thighs. The hair on his legs tickled my skin as I settled in. Up close, the musky scent of him was even stronger, a heady mix that made my head spin. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, see the way his cock twitched in anticipation.

"Go on, jaan.", he encouraged. "Show me what you can do."

I leaned in, my heart racing. The musky smell was overwhelming now, but not unpleasant. It was... primal. Exciting. I darted my tongue out, licking the bead of pre-cum from the tip. The taste was salty, slightly bitter. Different from yours, Ari, and different from others I’d known. But not bad. Encouraged by his low moan, I took the head into my mouth.

"Oyyyyyyyyy!!", Harpreet groaned. "That’s it, jaan. Take more.", I tried to take more of him in, but he was so thick. My jaw ached as I stretched my mouth around him. I could only manage about half before I felt like I might gag.

"Is okay…", Harpreet said, his hand coming to rest on my head. "Take what you can."

I did as he said, using my hand to stroke what I couldn’t fit in my mouth. The dual sensation seemed to drive him wild. His hips started to move, thrusting shallowly.

"Jaan...your mouth ekdum perfect.", Harpreet growled, his accent heavy with desire. "So hot and wet."

"Mmmphhhff!!", I moaned around his thickness, drool leaking from the corners of my stretched lips. The obscene wet sounds filled the room as I serviced him.

"That's right meri jaan, choke on it...fuck...I wanna paint your whole mouth white!!!...", He gripped my hair tighter. "Look up, look at me while you doing the sucking..."

I gazed up at him through teary eyes, his cock stretching my lips wide. "Ahhh...those eyes...sala, you were making for this only no?"

"Mhmmm...", I hummed in agreement, sending vibrations through his shaft.

His words were sending a thrill through me. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder as I bobbed my head. The taste of him filled my mouth, salty and musky. I could feel him leaking more pre-cum, coating my tongue. In the meantime, his cock grew even harder, throbbing urgently against my tongue. More precum continued to my mouth as his hips started to buck, fucking my face in short desperate thrusts. I relaxed my throat, taking him deeper, letting him use my mouth however he needed.

The sounds he made were absolutely filthy - guttural groans and breathless curses in both English and Hindi. His muscular thighs quivered on either side of my head. I reached up to massage his heavy balls, feeling them draw tight against his body. I don’t know how long I kept at it. Probably 10-15 minutes, easily. Time seemed to lose all meaning. My world narrowed down to the feeling of Harpreet in my mouth, the sound of his groans, the taste and smell of him. My jaw ached, my lips felt swollen, but I didn’t want to stop.

Harpreet’s hand tightened even further in my hair. "Jaan!", he groaned. "I... I close. You want me to..."

I knew what he was asking. For a moment, I hesitated. This was the point of no return. If I let him finish in my mouth, there would be no going back. But I was too far gone to care. I redoubled my efforts, sucking harder, moving faster. Harpreet’s groans grew louder, his hips bucking more erratically.

"Fuck, jaan! I... I...", And then he was cumming, his cock pulsing in my mouth as he spilled himself on my tongue. The taste was stronger now, saltier, more intense. I swallowed reflexively, again and again, trying to take it all.

When it was over, I pulled back, gasping for air. Harpreet collapsed back on the bed, his hairy chest heaving. I looked up at him, a mix of pride and uncertainty swirling in my chest. But when Harpreet opened his eyes and looked at me, all my doubts vanished. The look on his face... I’ve never seen anyone look at me like that before. Like I was a goddess, like I’d given him the greatest gift in the world.

"Come here, jaan.", he said, pulling me up for a kiss. He didn’t seem to care about the taste of himself on my lips. If anything, it seemed to excite him more. When we finally broke apart, both breathless, he grinned at me. "Wah, jaan. That was... incredible. You very good at that."

I blushed, oddly proud. "Well... I’ve had some practice.", I admitted.

Harpreet’s grin widened. "Lucky me, then. Very lucky me."

As we lay there, catching our breath, I couldn’t help but think about what we’d just done. About how far we’d gone. Part of me felt guilty. But a bigger part... a bigger part felt exhilarated. Alive in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

(Aradhya’s narration ends)

[DuraiBabu]

Wow! That was a great update and worth the wait! Looking forward for regular ones...!

[DuraiBabu]

When's the next update?? Please post regularly!!

[sa9891]

Please update

[Johnnythedevil]

Awesome update

[incest_cuck]

As Aradhya finished recounting her encounter with Harpreet, I sat there in stunned silence, my mind reeling from the vivid details she'd shared. The room felt uncomfortably warm, and I could feel a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead. My heart was racing, a mixture of surprise, arousal, and something I couldn't quite name coursing through my veins.

"Aradhya?", I finally managed to say, my voice hoarse. "Did you... did you actually give him a blowjob? This brutish, low-class plumber?"

I saw a flicker of regret pass over her face, her eyes darting away from mine. "I... yes, Ari. I did," she admitted softly. "It just... happened. I got carried away in the moment."

I leaned back in my chair, trying to process this information. This was so much more than I had anticipated. And so soon after that awkward encounter with the lecherous landlord.

"I see.", I said, my voice carefully neutral. I didn't want to guilt-trip her - after all, I had given her permission to explore. But the speed at which things had escalated left me feeling off-balance.

My wife looked at me, her expression a mix of concern and lingering arousal from reliving the memory. "Are you... are you angry?", she asked hesitantly.

I shook my head slowly. "No, not angry. Just... surprised, I suppose. I didn't expect things to move so fast."

She nodded, seeming to relax a little. "I didn't either, to be honest. It all happened so quickly. One moment we were just talking, and the next..."

"And the next, you had his cock in your mouth.", I finished for her, surprised at the bluntness of my own words.

Aradhya blushed deeply, but she didn't deny it. "Yes.", she whispered. "It... it brought back memories, Ari. Of my time in Delhi, during college."

I shifted in my seat, uncomfortably aware of my own growing arousal. Despite my surprise - or perhaps because of it - I found myself turned on by her confession. The image of my wife, my Aradhya, on her knees before this rough, working-class man... it was more arousing than I cared to admit. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "I see.", I said again, not trusting myself to say more.

My wife sighed, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Ari. I feel like I've disappointed you. This wasn't supposed to go so far, so fast. It started with just some innocent flirting and touching, and then suddenly we were making out, and his hands were all over me..."

She paused, looking ashamed. I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Aradhya, listen to me. I'm not mad at you. I'm just... surprised, that's all. I didn't expect things to escalate so quickly. We agreed to explore this, and that's what you're doing. I just didn't anticipate it would go from flirting to touching to making out to... oral so quickly."

Aradhya finally looked up at me, her eyes searching my face. "You're really not angry?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not angry. I'm... well, I'm a lot of things right now, but angry isn't one of them."

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before speaking again. "Ari, I... I need to warn you. If this continues, if we keep going down this path... well, you know what the next step is going to be, don't you?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of anxiety and excitement. "I do.", I said softly.

Aradhya studied me for a moment, her brow furrowed. "You're still aroused by this, aren't you? Even though we've pushed things so far?"

I felt my face heat up, but I didn't deny it. "Yes.", I admitted. "I am. I can't really explain it, but... yes."

She shook her head, looking both confused and intrigued. "I don't understand, Arijit. We've gone so much further than we originally planned. I thought you'd be upset, or at least want to slow things down."

I took a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. "I'm as surprised as you are, Aradhya. But there's something about hearing you talk about your experiences with that low-class, manly plumber... it's exciting. Terrifying, but exciting."

She nodded slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So... what now? Do we continue? Do we stop?"

I looked at her, really looked at her. Despite her earlier shame, I could see the excitement in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks. She wanted this, I realized. And, shockingly, so did I!

"We continue," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But Aradhya?"

"Yes?"

"Promise me you'll be careful. And that you'll tell me everything."

Her smile widened, a mix of relief and anticipation. "I promise, Ari. Every detail."

The days following Aradhya's confession about blowing Harpreet passed in an oddly quiet lull. I found myself constantly on edge, anticipating some new development. On a Monday morning, my wife casually mentioned over breakfast, "Oh, by the way, Harpreet had to leave for his village in Punjab. His father's fallen ill."

I nearly choked on my chai. "Is that so?", I managed, trying to keep my voice neutral. "Did he say when he'd be back?"

Aradhya shrugged, buttering her toast. "No, he wasn't sure. You know how these things can be."

I nodded, my mind racing. Part of me felt relieved – we had more time to process everything that had happened. But another part, a part I was still coming to terms with, felt disappointed. Following that news, I found myself spending more time at the office in the days moving forward. Not to escape any painfully arousing reminders, but simply because I was getting more work done there. The familiar routine of the office provided a welcome structure to my days, allowing me to focus on my tasks without the distractions of home. Plus, I reasoned, it would give Aradhya some space to focus on her work as a technical writer.

Each morning as I prepared to leave, I'd ask her, "Are you sure you want to stay home? What if Mr. Banerjee shows up?"

And each time, Aradhya would wave off my concerns. "He hasn't been around in days, Arijit. I think he's finally gotten bored."

I'd nod, kiss her goodbye, and head off to work, all the while battling conflicting emotions. Was I hoping our lecherous landlord would stay away, or was there a part of me that wanted him to show up? I also started noticing subtle changes in Aradhya's behavior in the last week. It was nothing I could put my finger on exactly – just small things. The way she'd startle slightly when I came home, as if I'd interrupted her thoughts. How she seemed more distracted during our evening conversations, her eyes often drifting to her phone.

One night, as we lay in bed, I finally broached the subject. "Aradhya, is everything alright? You seem... I don't know, different somehow."

She turned to me, her eyes wide and innocent. "Different? How do you mean?"

I shrugged, feeling foolish. "I'm not sure. Just... distracted, maybe? Is work stressing you out?"

Aradhya smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "No, work's fine. I'm just... I don't know, restless, I guess."

I nodded, understanding all too well. "Is it because of... you know, Harpreet being gone?"

She bit her lip, considering. "Maybe. I hadn't really thought about it, but... maybe."

I felt a familiar stirring of arousal mixed with anxiety. "Do you... do you miss him?"

Her cheeks flushed slightly. "I... I suppose I do, a little. Is that okay?"

I nodded, reaching out to stroke her cheek. "It's okay. I understand."

And I did understand, more than I cared to admit. I found myself eagerly anticipating Harpreet's return, even as I dreaded it. The thought of what might happen when he came back both thrilled and terrified me.

[Paul5]

Story going on with natural rythem it's beauty of author good job

[Mf123]

This one really turning out to be a finest story. I love the way the author is depicting the turmoil emotions. Expecting to see regular updates

[Dorabooji]

She is going to give birth to low class plumber baby and make this useless cuck as father for it.

[xossissippi]

I like your writing style, you definitely have a knack of writing. The narration is so good, it feels like the story is coming alive.

The timing of Mr. Banerjee entrance was on point. Just when the story was getting stale with only the Harpreet and Aradhya, Mr Banerjee made the right entrance and even got rewarded more than Harpreet.

Somewhere I feel, Aradhya's appetite is definitely increased when Mr Banerjee made his presence. Aradhya's enjoying more with Mr. Banerjee may be simply because of the nature of two polarities of their characters. Here we have Aradhya who is a hot bombshell and then we have Mr Banerjee who is your 'portly' short old man. Maybe because of the contrast. Maybe because of Taboo nature

Maybe it's because of the way Mr. Banerjee "worships" her. In his eyes she's absolute goddess and Aradhya can feel it from his lustful eyes and hungry. She was more of willing participant, she was very much willing to take her blouse off and let him suck those melons. She was disappointed when he went away, maybe more disappointed than Harpreet going away. Very erotic!

I feel Mr. Banerjee maybe colluding with Harpreet to achieve their goals or maybe Mr. Banerjee took a guess and it worked. Maybe the neighbors never made any complaint and he just took a shot and it worked!

Aradhya started to feel more lust with the portly old man, maybe she secretly waiting for his return. She's also aware that Arijit not like him at all but he's okay with Harpreet. So she's not sure weather to report him about her encounters with Mr. Banerjee or not... Let's wait and see!

Now Mr. Banerjee will not miss a chance now that Harpreet has gone home. Can't wait to read the next episodes. Let's go author!

[incest_cuck]

It was on a particularly warm Friday evening when everything changed. I arrived home, loosening my tie as I stepped through the front door. The familiar scent of Aradhya's cooking wafted from the kitchen, and I could hear her humming softly to herself.

"I'm home.", I called out, setting my briefcase down by the door.

"Welcome back.", Aradhya responded, her voice carrying from the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."

I nodded, though she couldn't see me, and made my way to the living room. As I approached the sofa, intent on sinking into its comfortable embrace after a long day at work, something caught my eye. There, on the hardwood floor just beside the coffee table, was a small, dried white stain. My heart began to race as I crouched down to examine it more closely. The stain was unmistakable – a small patch of dried cum, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. I swallowed hard, my mind immediately racing with possibilities. Had Harpreet returned without my knowledge? Had Aradhya been with someone else? Or was there a more innocent explanation that I was overlooking in my sudden state of arousal and confusion?

I straightened up quickly as I heard Aradhya's footsteps approaching. She entered the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"How was your day?", she asked, smiling warmly.

I forced myself to appear casual, even as my heart hammered in my chest. "Oh, you know, the usual. Nothing too exciting.", I paused, then added as nonchalantly as I could, "Say, has Harpreet returned yet? Any word from him?"

Aradhya shook her head, her expression unchanged. "No, not yet. Last I heard, his father was still unwell. Why do you ask?"

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice level. "Just curious. It's been a while since he left, hasn't it?"

"Mmm, yes, it has.", Aradhya agreed. She glanced at her watch. "Oh, I should get back to the kitchen. Dinner will be ready soon."

As she retreated to the kitchen, I found myself staring at the dried stain on the floor. Who could it be from, if not Harpreet? The question nagged at me throughout dinner, even as Aradhya and I engaged in our usual evening conversation.

That night, as I lay in bed next to my sleeping wife, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was happening right under my nose. The excitement I'd felt at the prospect of Aradhya's adventures with that low-class, manly plumber was now tinged with a new emotion – a burning curiosity to know exactly what was going on when I wasn't around.

The next morning, I made a decision. After breakfast, I kissed my sweet, beautiful goodbye and headed out, ostensibly for work. Instead, I drove to a local electronics store.

"Can I help you find anything?", a young sales associate asked as I browsed the aisles.

I nodded, lowering my voice slightly. "Yes, I'm looking for some small, discreet cameras. Something that can be easily hidden and accessed remotely."

The associate raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. He led me to a display of various surveillance cameras, explaining the features of each. After some deliberation, I selected two small, wireless cameras that could be easily concealed and accessed via a smartphone app. As the associate rang up my purchase, I felt a mix of guilt and excitement. Was I really going to spy on my own wife? But then the image of that dried stain on the floor flashed through my mind, and I knew I had to know the truth.

I spent the rest of the day at a nearby café, remotely logging into my work computer to keep up appearances. When I received a text from Aradhya saying she was heading out for a grocery run, I knew my opportunity had arrived. Hurrying home, I quickly set about installing the cameras. The first went in the living room, carefully positioned to capture most of the space while remaining hidden behind some books on a shelf. The second I placed in our bedroom, tucked away in the corner where it would be virtually invisible.

My hands shook slightly as I synced the cameras to my phone, my heart racing at the thought of what I might discover. Just as I finished, I heard the sound of Aradhya's key in the lock. I quickly pocketed my phone and moved to help her with the groceries, trying to act as normal as possible. That night, as my wife slept peacefully beside me, I lay awake, my mind racing. The cameras were in place, silently watching, ready to reveal whatever secrets our home might hold when I was away. Part of me felt guilty for this invasion of privacy, but another part – a part that grew stronger with each passing moment – thrilled at the prospect of finally knowing the truth. As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder: what would the following day bring? What would I see when I checked those camera feeds? The anticipation was almost unbearable, a delicious torture that filled me with equal parts dread and excitement.

The next morning arrived, and I left for work as usual, my phone feeling heavier in my pocket with the knowledge of what it could now show me. As I sat at my desk, I found myself unable to focus on my work, my hand constantly straying to my phone, tempted to check the feeds. Finally, during my lunch break, I couldn't resist any longer. With trembling fingers, I opened the app and connected to the living room camera. At first, everything seemed normal. Aradhya moved about the house, working on her laptop, making phone calls. But then, around 2 PM, there was a knock at the door.

My heart leapt into my throat as I watched Aradhya answer it. To my shock, it wasn't Harpreet standing there, but Mr. Banerjee – our portly, balding landlord. I watched, mesmerized, as my wife invited him in, a smile playing on her lips that I'd never seen before. My fingers trembled as I watched the scene unfold on my phone screen. They both sat on the sofa, their lips moving in conversation I couldn't hear. I strained my eyes, trying to read their expressions, to glean any hint of what they might be discussing.

Suddenly, Aradhya stood up, a coy smile playing on her lips. My breath caught in my throat as she slowly untied the belt of her full-sleeved housecoat. With a graceful shrug of her shoulders, the robe slipped off, pooling at her feet.

I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of my wife standing completely naked before our landlord. Her dusky skin glowed in the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains, every curve and valley of her body on full display. Her breasts, full and perky, bobbed slightly with her movement. Her nipples, a deep brown against her caramel skin, were already erect, pointing outward invitingly. My gaze traveled down her flat stomach to the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair between her legs.

Mr. Banerjee's reaction was immediate and visceral. His beady eyes bulged in their sockets, his mouth hanging open as he ogled my wife's naked form. His meaty hands gripped the edge of the sofa, his knuckles turning white with the effort of restraining himself.

Aradhya didn't move, allowing our landlord's gaze to roam over her body. She seemed to be reveling in his attention, her heaving breasts rising and falling with deep, excited breaths. Slowly, teasingly, she raised her arms above her head, stretching languidly. The movement caused her boobies to lift, presenting them even more prominently, the contrast between her dusky skin and the lighter undersides of her breasts clearly visible.

That perverted landlord’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he stared hungrily at my sweet, curvy wife. His portly frame practically vibrated with excitement, the buttons of his thin, sweat-stained shirt straining against his protruding belly. A dark patch of perspiration was already forming under his arms and across his chest. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he lurched forward. His flabby arms outstretched towards my wife, fingers wiggling in anticipation. He didn't even bother removing his shirt, too eager to get his hands on her flesh.

I watched, mesmerized and conflicted, as our landlord’s hands made contact with Aradhya's bare skin. His thick, sausage-like fingers gripped her hips, pulling her closer. The paleness of his hands stood out starkly against her dusky complexion. Aradhya's head tilted back, her mouth open in what I imagined was a gasp or moan. The fat bastard’s balding head dipped down, his mouth latching onto Aradhya's breast. Even without sound, I could almost hear the wet, sloppy noises as he devoured her flesh. His lips and tongue worked frantically, leaving glistening trails of saliva across her caramel skin. He suckled her dark nipple like a starving infant, his cheeks hollowing with the effort.

My wife’s hands rested on Mr. Banerjee's shoulders, neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer. Her eyes were closed, her expression a mix of pleasure and something I couldn't quite decipher - perhaps resignation or secret enjoyment? Her fingers kneaded the damp fabric of his shirt, bunching it up between her knuckles.

Meanwhile, the starving landlord’s enthusiasm was palpable. He was like a man possessed, his mouth and hands moving frantically over Aradhya's body. He alternated between her breasts, lavishing each with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses and rough sucks. Saliva dripped from his chin, leaving wet trails down his neck and staining his already sweat-soaked shirt. His hands roamed greedily over her body, squeezing and kneading every inch he could reach. His stubby fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, leaving red marks that quickly faded on her dusky skin. He groped her breasts roughly, mashing them together and burying his face between them.

I felt a confusing mix of emotions as I watched our overweight, middle-aged landlord ravish my wife. Part of me was repulsed by his sweaty, aggressive display. Another part was undeniably aroused by Aradhya's naked form and the taboo nature of the encounter. My own breath came in short, quick gasps, my pants growing uncomfortably tight.

Mr. Banerjee's hands slid down to Aradhya's ass, gripping the flesh tightly. He pulled her even closer, grinding his clothed crotch against her bare mound. Her head fell back, her long black hair cascading down her back as her body arched into his touch. Her hips moved in small, circular motions, rubbing against the obvious bulge in Mr. Banerjee's trousers. The landlord's face though was flushed a deep red, sweat pouring down his temples and neck. His breathing was heavy and labored, each exhale accompanied by a grunt of effort and pleasure. He buried his face in Aradhya's neck, his tongue lapping at her dusky skin like a thirsty dog.

Aradhya's hands moved to Mr. Banerjee's head, her fingers running through what little hair he had left. She guided his mouth back to her breasts, offering them up to his eager lips. Our landlord accepted greedily, his jowls quivering as he sucked and slurped at her dark nipples.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen, my breath coming in short, quick gasps. The scene before me was raw, primal, and utterly unexpected. Mr. Banerjee, a man I'd always seen as repulsive, was devouring my wife with an intensity that both shocked and fascinated me.

His hands moved to Aradhya's thighs, spreading them apart. Without warning, he plunged two thick fingers into her pussy. Her body jerked at the sudden intrusion, her mouth opening in what I imagined was a cry of surprise and pleasure. Mr. Banerjee's arm moved vigorously, his fingers no doubt pumping in and out of my wife's wet heat. Her hips bucked against his hand, her body undulating with each thrust of his fingers. Her hands gripped Mr. Banerjee's shoulders tightly, her nails digging into the damp fabric of his shirt. Her head thrashed from side to side, her hair whipping around her flushed face.

Mr. Banerjee's free hand continued to grope and squeeze Aradhya's breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples. His mouth moved from her chest to her neck, leaving a trail of hickeys that stood out vividly against her dusky skin. He bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, causing Aradhya's body to arch sharply. I watched in a daze as our landlord pleasured my wife, his pudgy body pressed tightly against her lithe form. The contrast between them was stark - Aradhya's smooth, caramel skin against Mr. Banerjee's pale, hairy flesh peeking out from his straining shirt.

Suddenly, Mr. Banerjee withdrew his fingers from Aradhya's pussy. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with obvious relish. His eyes rolled back in his head as he tasted my wife's juices, a look of pure ecstasy on his face. Our landlord savored the flavor, his tongue darting out to catch every last drop from his fingers. His chest heaved with each ragged breath, sweat glistening on his brow.

Suddenly, he released her, allowing my wife to stand upright. She took a small step back, her dusky skin flushed and glistening. Mr. Banerjee's gaze raked over her body, drinking in every curve and contour as if committing it to memory. With trembling hands, he reached for his belt. The metal buckle clinked softly as he fumbled with it, his fingers clumsy with desire. Finally, he managed to undo it, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss.

He tossed the belt aside, the heavy buckle thudding against the mosaic floor. His hands moved to the button of his trousers, popping it open with a quick flick of his wrist. The zipper came next, its teeth parting slowly, teasingly.  My wife watched, her eyes fixed on Mr. Banerjee's hands as they worked. Her breasts rose and fell with each shallow breath, her nipples still hard and pointing outward. Mr. Banerjee lifted his hips, pushing his trousers down over his thick thighs. The fabric bunched around his knees before he kicked them off entirely, sending them flying across the room. His pale, hairy legs were now fully exposed, a stark contrast to Aradhya's smooth, caramel skin. Next came his underwear. Mr. Banerjee hooked his thumbs under the waistband, pausing for a moment as if to build suspense. Then, with a grunt of effort, he lifted his substantial bulk and slid the garment down.

As his underwear joined his trousers on the floor, I felt my jaw drop in shock! Our perverted landlord’s cock sprang free, and it was... impressive. Far more impressive than I could have ever imagined.

Despite his portly frame and otherwise unimpressive physique, Mr. Banerjee was incredibly well-endowed. His member stood proud and erect, jutting out from a nest of dark, curly hair. It was long - easily seven or eight inches - and thick, with prominent veins running along its length. The head was swollen and purple, glistening with pre-cum. I couldn't believe my eyes. Our middle-aged, overweight landlord was packing heat that would put most porn stars to shame. The contrast between his flabby body and his magnificent cock was almost comical.

My sweet and naked wife’s eyes widened as she took in the sight. Her lips parted slightly, a small gasp escaping her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her thighs pressing together as if to quell the ache between them.

Mr. Banerjee sat down and leaned back on the sofa, spreading his legs wide. His massive cock stood at attention, throbbing visibly with each beat of his heart. He locked eyes with Aradhya, a smug grin spreading across his face. Slowly, deliberately, he crooked his finger at her, beckoning her closer.

[Sad Ash Rafa]

Finally some action with the ugly landlord

[Lovekink]

You need to make the wife have sex with the landlord. He must fuck her well. She must enjoy and beg to get fucked. The landlord shud bring other ugly guys with him , and she must pleasure them as well as she is fully blackmailed. Landlord could also be a pervert. Tie her; massage her ; arouse her; but not fuck her until she begs and surrenders completely.

Harpreet and the landlord to have a gangbang with her. It is revealed that they were hands in glove in seducing her right from the beginning. Harpreet’s low class friends; watchmen; construction workers; drivers etc all shud fuck her. 

These were a few suggestions. It’s your story and you be the judge.

[sa9891]

Please update

[Bansalboy]

You need to make the wife have sex with the landlord. He must fuck her well. She must enjoy and beg to get fucked. The landlord shud bring other ugly guys with him , and she must pleasure them as well as she is fully blackmailed. Landlord could also be a pervert. Tie her; massage her ; arouse her; but not fuck her until she begs and surrenders completely.

Harpreet and the landlord to have a gangbang with her. It is revealed that they were hands in glove in seducing her right from the beginning. Harpreet’s low class friends; watchmen; construction workers; drivers etc all shud fuck her. 

These were a few suggestions. It’s your story and you be the judge.

Right She Should Be Very Well Used ... Made To Crawl Like A Dog ... They Should Piss om her , Tease Her , Make Her Beg , Spank Her

[DuraiBabu]

I kind of have other views on Aradhya! She is unlike other woman who'd fall for anyone and everyone just for sex! She is rare and wants to be earned, not sure what tricks Banerjee used on her that let her shed her inhibitions and just go naked whereas for Harpreet she denied removing her undies until a point in time. Aradhya is a little mystery but still keeps keen interests in exploring the forbidden! That's where she specializes!

[incest_cuck]

I watched on my phone as my wife hesitated for just a moment before sinking to her knees. She crawled towards our lecherous perverted landlord, her movements slow and sensual. Her breasts swayed gently with each motion, her ass swinging from side to side. As she reached him, Mr. Banerjee's hands came to rest on her head. His thick fingers tangled in her long, dark hair, guiding her face towards his crotch. Aradhya’s breath washed over his cock, causing it to twitch in anticipation. His thick fingers then twisted cruelly in her dark hair, wrenching her head back at a painful angle. Even without sound, I could tell she cried out. Our old landlord then did something that even made me shudder. My screen showed him hawking up saliva and then letting it rain down on my wife's upturned face. The white glob rolled down her flushed cheek. Then he said something to her and she hesitantly opened her mouth. Another splash of his spit landed on her open mouth. Her tongue darted out instinctively to catch it. To my shock, I noticed Aradhya's throat work as she swallowed it greedily, her chest heaving with arousal.

I could see Mr. Banerjee's face crack into a cruel smirk, his eyes glinting with satisfaction at my wife's eager degradation. His thick fingers stroked her spit-stained cheek almost mockingly, as if proudly admiring his handiwork before he yanked her head back into position. Only then did he ease his grip, keeping her head tilted at just the right angle as his cock hovered mere inches from her face. I could see the raw hunger in my wife's eyes as she stared at his thick shaft, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, mixing her own saliva with the remnants of his that still coated them.

Finally, Mr. Banerjee gave a slight nod, granting permission. My wife didn't hesitate. She leaned forward, her full lips parting as she took the head of his cock into her mouth. A low, guttural groan escaped Mr. Banerjee as Aradhya's warm, wet mouth enveloped him. His head fell back against the sofa, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. His grip on Aradhya's hair tightened, but he didn't force her down. Instead, he allowed her to set her own pace.

She started slow, her lips forming a tight seal around the head of the fat landlord’s thick cock. Her tongue swirled around it, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there. She moaned softly, the vibrations sending shudders through his body. Gradually, my wife began to take more of him into her mouth. Inch by inch, she slid down his shaft, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked. Her hand came up to wrap around the base, stroking what she couldn't fit in her mouth.

Mr. Banerjee's breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving with each intake of air. Sweat beaded on his forehead, running down his temples and neck. His free hand gripped the sofa cushion, his knuckles turning white with the effort of restraining himself.

Aradhya's head bobbed up and down, her movements becoming more confident. Her dark hair fell in a curtain around her face, occasionally obscuring my view. When it parted, I could see her lips stretched wide around Mr. Banerjee's girth, glistening with saliva. She pulled back, releasing his cock with a wet 'pop'. A string of saliva connected her lips to the tip for a moment before breaking. Her tongue darted out, licking a long stripe from base to tip. Our landlord shuddered, a strangled moan escaping him.

Aradhya lavished attention on every inch of Mr. Banerjee's impressive member. She traced the prominent veins with her tongue, occasionally pausing to place open-mouthed kisses along the shaft. Her hand never stopped moving, stroking firmly as her mouth worked.  Mr. Banerjee's hips began to move, making small thrusting motions. He was losing control, his primal urges taking over. His grip on Aradhya's hair tightened, guiding her movements more forcefully.

Sensing his growing urgency, my wife redoubled her efforts. She took him deep into her mouth once more, relaxing her throat to accommodate his length. Her nose brushed against his belly as she swallowed around him, her throat constricting around his cock. A strangled cry tore from the man’s throat. His hips bucked upward, driving his cock even deeper. Aradhya gagged slightly but didn't pull away. Instead, she held herself there, her eyes watering as she fought against her gag reflex. After a long moment, she pulled back, gasping for air. Strings of saliva connected her lips to Mr. Banerjee's cock, breaking and reforming as she panted. Her lips were swollen and red, her chin slick with a mixture of saliva and pre-cum.

Mr. Banerjee looked down at her, his eyes dark with lust. His cock twitched, angry and red, desperate for more attention. Aradhya met his gaze, a mischievous glint in her eye. Without breaking eye contact, she lowered her head once more. This time, she focused her attention on Mr. Banerjee's balls. She nuzzled against them, inhaling deeply. Her tongue darted out, lapping at the wrinkled skin. The pale, rotund man’s whole body tensed, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

Aradhya then took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking gently. Her hand continued to stroke his shaft, her grip firm but not too tight. Mr. Banerjee's hips jerked sporadically, his control slipping further with each passing second. She alternated between his balls, lavishing each with equal attention. Her free hand came up to caress his inner thigh, her nails scbanging lightly against his skin. Our landlord trembled, overwhelmed by the sensations.

Finally, Aradhya released his balls and returned to his cock. She swirled her tongue around the head before taking him deep once more. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard, her head bobbing up and down with increased speed. Mr. Banerjee's grip on her hair tightened to the point of pain. His hips thrust upward, meeting Aradhya's downward movements.

I watched, transfixed, as my wife pleasured this disgusting old, perverted man. The sight of her dusky skin against his pale flesh, her full lips stretched around his impressive girth, was both shocking and arousing. My own arousal pressed painfully against my pants, demanding attention I couldn't give.

Aradhya's movements became more frantic, sensing Mr. Banerjee's impending climax. She took him as deep as she could, her throat working around him. Her hand stroked what she couldn't fit in her mouth, twisting slightly with each upward motion. The old landlord’s body went rigid, his back arching off the sofa. A strangled cry tore from his throat as he reached his peak. His cock pulsed visibly, pumping his release into Aradhya's eager mouth.

Aradhya didn't pull away. She continued to suck, swallowing each spurt of cum as it came. Mr. Banerjee's hips jerked erratically, his fingers tangled painfully in Aradhya's hair as he rode out his orgasm. After what seemed like an eternity, his body body went limp. He collapsed back onto the sofa, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. His grip on Aradhya's hair loosened, his hand falling limply to his side.

My wife slowly pulled back, letting Mr. Banerjee's softening cock slip from her mouth. She sat back on her heels, looking up at him with a mixture of satisfaction and expectation. A drop of cum clung to the corner of her mouth, which she quickly licked away. Our lecherous landlord looked down at her, his expression a mix of awe and residual lust. His cock twitched feebly, as if trying to rally for another round. With surprising strength, he suddenly gripped Aradhya's arms and pulled her onto his lap. His flabby stomach pressed against her taut abdomen as he crushed his lips against hers in a sloppy, aggressive kiss.

My wife’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Mr. Banerjee's tongue invaded her mouth, tasting himself on her lips and tongue. He groaned deeply, apparently aroused by the lingering flavor of his own cum. His hands roamed over her body, kneading her breasts and squeezing her ass as he devoured her mouth.

When they finally broke apart, both were panting heavily. Our landlord’s face was flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his balding head. He grinned lecherously at Aradhya, his hands still wandering over her dusky skin. I watched intently, straining to decipher their conversation, especially since the video feed was silent. Their lips moved, forming words I couldn't decipher. Aradhya laughed at something Mr. Banerjee said, her head thrown back, exposing the graceful line of her neck. The landlord's expression was smug, clearly pleased with himself.

Their mouths continued to move in animated conversation. Mr. Banerjee's hands never stopped roaming over my wife’s body, pinching, squeezing, and caressing. She squirmed on his lap, her reactions a mix of pleasure and playful resistance. After several minutes of silent exchange, he glanced at the gaudy gold watch on his wrist. His expression changed, a hint of reluctance crossing his features. With exaggerated movements, he lifted Aradhya off his lap and set her down on the sofa beside him. The portly landlord then heaved himself to his feet, his substantial belly hanging over his groin. Both Aradhya and I watched as he waddled around the room, collecting his scattered clothing. My wife remained on the sofa, her nude form a stark contrast to Mr. Banerjee's ungainly movements.

He dressed slowly, his movements sluggish in his post-coital state, struggling with buttons and zippers. His shirt strained against his protruding stomach, the bottom buttons left undone. As he fastened his belt, he turned to Aradhya, his lips moving in what I assumed was a parting statement. My wife nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. Mr. Banerjee took a final, lingering look at my wife's naked body before lumbering out of the apartment. The door closed behind him with a silent click on my screen.

As I pondered over these crazy moments between my wife and our landlord, I realized that things would never be the same. This wasn't just a one-time thing, a momentary lapse in judgment. This has been happening for a while and unlike the first time with our supposedly lecherous landlord, this time my wife seemed to be an eager participant. The scene faded to black on my phone screen, leaving me with a thousand questions and a growing sense of anticipation.

My mind reeled as I stumbled through my workday, the silent video feed haunting my thoughts. Confusion overwhelmed me, but an unexpected undercurrent of arousal coursed through my body. I'd given my wife tacit permission to explore with Harpreet, that towering Punjabi Adonis with his thick beard, hairy chest, and bulging muscles. But the landlord? This defied logic - and yet, it ignited something primal within me. Mr. Banerjee was Harpreet's polar opposite - short, fat, balding, with skin that glistened unappealingly. As I pictured my wife with our greasy landlord, my cock twitched traitorously in my pants. I recalled the stories I'd devoured on illicit forums late at night - tales of wives submitting to older, unattractive men while their husbands watched. I never imagined I'd find myself living out those scenarios.

The memory of Mr. Banerjee groping and sucking on Aradhya's boobs weeks ago resurfaced. "I've dreamed of this. Imagined how these perfect tits would feel in my hands.", he had said. My stomach churned, but my arousal intensified. I remembered how Aradhya's body responded involuntarily to the portly landlord's touch in this most recent video footage.

Why was this turning me on? Jealousy still simmered, but it was overshadowed by a confusing cocktail of shame and excitement. I'd pictured Aradhya with Harpreet - all raw masculinity. But Mr. Banerjee? The mental image was almost laughable, yet undeniably erotic. As hours crawled by, my arousal and perplexity deepened. I oscillated between disgust and desperate horniness. By day's end, my pants were uncomfortably tight, my mind a mess of conflicting desires. I dreaded confronting Aradhya and this baffling, arousing new reality.

[NityaSakti]

Excellent update

[Mayur5555]

Nice update