Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust

[drillhot]

Exceptional writing friend !!!!

[Arul Pragasam]

Super bro

[Roxrix11]

Nice update

[Vasanthan]

What a change from Afrahhhhhh

[Siva.s]

Good going keep updated

[Vinty03]

Update pls

[DuraiBabu]

Why no updates? Please update soon....

[Zoz34]

Hi ,zoz here ,I tried to include a different narrative style to the Story.
Hope you will enjoy it ,it is the follow up envent after Vishal and Afrah's last kissing encounter.


3 days later


Sohail pov:

Sohail’s eyes fluttered open, disoriented. His head throbbed, a dull, pulsing ache that blurred his vision. Where…where was he? Shadows danced across the ceiling, faint shapes, and muffled sounds. His mind struggled to make sense of it, and then…there was a sound—soft, breathless, unmistakable. A woman’s moan pierced the fog, floating through the air with every subtle movement, each sigh growing louder, more urgent.

“Ahhh...God...yes…”

The sound echoed, mingling with a soft, rhythmic thumping. He blinked, fighting to focus his gaze, each breath feeling heavier than the last. In the dim light, he could make out two bodies, tightly pressed together, moving with an unrestrained, carnal rhythm. His stomach twisted as he tried to push himself up, but his limbs felt weak, betraying him. The room tilted, his vision blurring, but he could see enough—a figure moving above, muscles flexing with each deep thrust. The silhouette leaned in close, shadowed against the dim light, blocking his view of the woman beneath. Her body writhed beneath him, fingers digging into his shoulders, her face just out of reach, hidden in darkness but alive with gasps and moans that filled the air, leaving no doubt as to what was happening.


Vishal's face flashed in his mind, and an icy dread spread through his veins. No…no, it couldn’t be. He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust, but his sight remained frustratingly blurred, the details just out of reach. All he could see was the outline of two bodies, a fevered tangle of limbs and shadows.

Pain tore through his chest, sharper than any physical ache, a raw, twisting agony. His heart clenched as the woman beneath whimpered, her voice desperate, pleading. He wanted to scream, to demand answers, but his voice felt trapped in his throat. He tried to rise, to pull himself out of this nightmare, but his legs buckled, and he crumpled back down, helpless.

As darkness swallowed him again, the last thing he heard was that steady rhythm, haunting him, echoing in his mind as his eyes drifted shut.



Sohail’s eyes fluttered open, his head pounding like a drumbeat as he came to in the dim, unfamiliar room. Every inch of him ached, and his mouth felt like sandpaper. He groaned, running a shaky hand over his face, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing he clearly remembered was the party, a heavy haze of drinks and laughter blurring together, his boss introducing Vishal, describing him as a “close friend and business associate.”

Fragments flashed before him—faces, clinking glasses, voices merging into a dull hum. Then…a muffled sound, a woman's moan. His heart clenched as he fought to focus, the memory slipping just out of reach. He forced himself to sit up, blinking against the disorienting fog clouding his mind. His stomach twisted as his gaze fell on the empty bed across from him, its sheets tangled and disheveled as though someone had been there, leaving behind only a hint of warmth.

He tried to recall more, but all he could grasp were fragments—flashes of bodies moving, soft murmurs, the brush of skin. Had he imagined it?



His head throbbed as he leaned forward, gripping it tightly, trying to piece together fragments that felt as slippery as oil. Everything blurred, jagged images twisting, teasing him with half-formed shapes and sounds. Two bodies, locked together, moving in that unbearable rhythm. A familiar moan slipping through the haze, low and soft, like something lodged deep in his memory.

The man… was it Vishal? He thought he knew, but the thought twisted, muddied. He wanted to be certain, but in this foggy state, could he trust anything he remembered? And the woman’s voice—so familiar it felt like a knife pressing in. Did he hear her say something? The words floated up, half-formed, slipping back into shadows.

“What if he wakes up?” Was it really her voice? And then another—Vishal’s, or was that just his fear speaking? “He’s a pussy. He won’t do a thing.”

A wave of nausea rolled over him as doubt crawled through his mind, gripping, twisting, whispering. Was it real? Or was his own mind laughing at him, feeding on his deepest fears? He closed his eyes, but the sounds, the images—they wouldn’t let him rest, wouldn’t let him breathe.


Sohail’s heart raced, the memories swirling chaotically in his mind as he fought to piece together the night. His head spun, the pain a constant reminder of the fog clouding his thoughts. But then, as if surfacing from the depths of a nightmare, an image forced its way through the chaos: Afrah. Her body, soft and yielding, wrapped beneath Vishal’s weight, the way her skin glistened under the dim light. He could almost see the curve of her waist, the arch of her back as she surrendered to the rhythm of desire. 

The sheer thought of it sent a shiver through him, a chill that crept down his spine, tightening like a noose. No, it can’t be. She wasn’t at the party—he was sure of that. But doubt seeped in like poison, gnawing at his resolve. Had it been real, or just a cruel figment of his imagination? 

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the vision to dissipate, but it clung on, vivid and tormenting. The sound of her breathy moans intertwined with the memory of her laughter, haunting him. What if it was true? 


Sohail stumbled back from the bed, his heart racing as he glanced at the stained sheets. The unmistakable evidence of sex lay before him, and the reality hit him like a slap across the face. His thoughts raced in frantic circles. It couldn't be Afrah, could it? She wasn’t at the party; he was sure. Yet the disarray of the room and the stains left behind painted a sordid picture that gnawed at him.

Desperation clawed at him. He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking as he dialed her number. The ringing felt like an eternity. Finally, she picked up.

“Where are you?”he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady, the urgency creeping in.

“At home,” Afrah replied. In the background, he could hear her mother’s voice.

Without waiting for a response, he hung up, a storm of emotions swirling inside him. Home. The word echoed in his mind, but it provided no comfort. He felt lost, teetering on the brink of insanity. 

He tried to recall every detail, every conversation, every moment from the party, but it slipped through his fingers like grains of sand and he cursed himself for drinking so much. 


Sohail spent the day haunted by fragments of the previous night. Images from his boss’s estate—the maze of polished floors, dim rooms, and the tangle of bodies he’d glimpsed—flashed through his mind, refusing to settle. Waking disoriented in a guest room, he’d left in the harsh light of morning, hoping distance would bring clarity. 



Sohail's mind raced, tangled with thoughts that seemed to have no clear answer. He wanted to call Afrah, to hear her voice, to somehow confirm that his suspicions were just the product of a fractured memory and too many drinks. But what could he even ask her? "Were you at my boss's party… with Vishal?" The question sounded absurd even in his own head. He’d remember if she’d been there—he was sure of it, wasn’t he? Yet every time he tried to piece together the night, it blurred at the edges.

He recalled his boss introducing Vishal, talking about their new project together. He could still hear the murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of laughter around them. But nothing about Afrah. He was sure she hadn’t been there. And yet…

Maybe John could help. John was one of the few faces he remembered seeing more than once during the evening, always appearing with a fresh drink in hand. Perhaps he’d know how Sohail ended up in that guest room. His boss had assured him that he’d only had a bit too much to drink, but Sohail couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.


As Sohail sat across from John during their lunch break, he tried to keep his tone casual, but the question had been eating away at him. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he began, leaning in slightly. “Do you know how I ended up in the guest room at the boss's place?”

John shrugged, his face blank. “No idea, man. One minute you were there, enjoying yourself like the rest of us—eating, drinking. Next, you must’ve wandered off. Happens.”

“Anything out of place?” Sohail pressed, hoping for some clue to clear the fog in his mind.

“Nothing that I recall,”John replied, looking thoughtful for a moment. “It was a party, you know? Everyone was pretty much just there to have a good time.”

Sohail hesitated, trying to piece together fragments of the night. “Do you remember the boss introducing us to that guy, Vishal Khattar, from Zin Company?”

“Oh, yeah. Vishal,”John nodded, a smirk crossing his face. “That guy’s a total stud. I actually saw him later that night. He was over in the corner with some woman, real bombshell. She had this killer figure, and they were all over each other—kissing, groping, like they were in their own world.”

Sohail's heart sank, a chill running through him as he tried to picture it. He fought the urge to ask more, his mind already jumping to unwelcome conclusions. Was that the woman he'd thought he'd heard? And was he just imagining, or had there really been something familiar about her voice

Sohail tried to keep his expression neutral, forcing a casual tone. “What exactly were they doing? And… you couldn’t tell who she was?"

John grinned, leaning in with a knowing look. “Nah, couldn’t see her face. But she was in this red saree—absolutely stunning, man. Perfect figure, toned in all the right places.” He chuckled. “Not too small, not too big, just… perfect. And Vishal, that lucky bastard, was all over her. His hands weren’t leaving her, I’ll tell you that much. I’d put my money on him getting lucky that night.”

Before Sohail could ask more, their conversation was interrupted by a colleague stopping by their table, breaking the tension. As the chatter resumed around him, Sohail excused himself, his thoughts darkening as he walked away.

The sinking feeling in his chest only deepened. The details played over and over in his mind: the red saree, Vishal’s hands on her, his own foggy memories of waking up alone in the guest room. Was it real? Or had he dreamt it all in some drunken haze? He couldn’t shake the nagging dread that clawed at him, or the question that kept echoing in his mind: who was the woman? And why did he feel so certain that he’d heard her voice before? Afrah? No, it couldn’t have been her—she hadn’t been at the party, he was almost certain of that.


It was maddening, trying to sift truth from dream, reality from illusion. 

Next day Afrah home:


Sohail sat on the couch, nodding and responding politely as Afrah’s family engaged him in small talk. But his mind was elsewhere, churning with images he wished he could erase. Every now and then, he glanced over at Afrah, taking in the sway of her hips as she moved about the room. 

When she got up to go to the kitchen, his gaze drifted, drawn helplessly to the soft curve of her figure in the fitted salwar suit. The fabric clung gently to her as she walked, accentuating the roundness of her backside. It was almost instinctual, the way his mind wandered back to John’s words, the description of that mystery woman in the red saree. Vishal’s hands, shamelessly groping, pressing into the fabric, pulling her close as if he owned her.

A rush of heat and jealousy hit him. "What would Afrah look like in that saree, the rich red dbangd over her curves, the fabric tracing every line of her figure, hugging her waist, that perfect curve of her hips…" His chest tightened as he imagined it, an image that was almost painful in its allure.
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But then she was back, her footsteps light as she approached with a tray in hand. Her gentle voice and smile jolted him back to reality, grounding him. He forced himself to meet her gaze, taking the food she’d brought, as he struggled to bury the thoughts that had been threatening to consume him.


All these scattered pieces weighed heavily on Sohail’s mind—her sudden Goa trip, the hazy dream at his boss's party, Vishal, and that red saree-clad woman who lingered at the edge of his memory like a haunting. It was as if every little thing was pointing toward something hidden just out of his reach, each memory twisting his gut tighter.

He wanted answers, but how could he even begin? The idea of spying on her was tempting, gnawing at the back of his mind. Maybe if he watched her closely, he could catch a hint of truth in her actions, something to confirm—or deny—his suspicions. But would she ever give anything away so easily? 

Did Afrah even own a saree? He’d only ever seen her in salwar suits, casual and elegant, always modest. Yet the thought of her in a saree—one like that vivid red number from his dreams—stirred something conflicting within him. How would she look wrapped in silk, with the fabric clinging to her figure in all the right places? Would she wear one like that for him? Or for
 someone else?


Sohail’s phone buzzed, snapping him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and felt his breath hitch—it was a picture, close-up and risque framed, of a woman’s waist adorned with a delicate silver chain. The soft curve of her waist dipped into the low waistband of tight denim shorts, her thighs thick and toned, just visible at the edge of the shot. It was mesmerizing, undeniably sensual, and his pulse quickened as he stared. 
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For a moment, he simply absorbed the image, a familiar heat building within him. But then, another message flashed beneath the photo: “Bet you haven’t seen her like this.”

Confusion clouded his mind. What was this? Who sent it? He scanned the number, unregistered in his contacts. And then it hit him like a storm—a hazy memory flooding back. The short denim, the silver glint of that chain... hadn’t he seen something like it before?

His heart hammered as realization dawned. A reflection. The photo Vishal had posted that night, a faint reflection in the glass of the yatch. Was this her? Was this… Afrah? 

No. He pushed the thought away, but the doubt lingered, gnawing at his mind.


The possibility clawed at him, making it hard to breathe. His hand trembled slightly as he stared at the photo, his mind cycling through memories, reaching for any reassurance that might calm the storm within him. 'Had she worn something like that before? No, Afrah was usually modest, careful. But this? This felt like an invitation to doubt everything he thought he knew.

Another message lit up on the screen, just a single line: “Don’t you wish you’d seen her like this first?”

The words burned, fueling his turmoil, and his mind reeled with fragments of that night. Vishal’s smirk, the laughter echoing in his head, John’s words about a woman in red… every detail seemed to taunt him now, weaving into an unsettling picture he didn’t want to believe. "Had it all been in front of him the whole time?" He wanted to shake the thought away, to believe in her, to trust her. But this seed of suspicion, once planted, was taking root fast.

The image wouldn’t leave his mind—Afrah, wrapped in that chain, walking sexly maybe caught in a moment he was never meant to see. His heart ached, and the jealousy tasted bitter, laced with his deepest fears. He didn’t know what to think anymore, only that he couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in.



He shook his head, trying to dismiss it as a mistake. 'Someone probably sent it to the wrong number. Or maybe it was just a prank,' he told himself, but the sinking feeling wouldn’t leave him. He glanced up from his phone, and there she was—Afrah, sitting across the room in her modest salwar kameez, laughing softly with his mother. Her hair was neatly pinned, her manner sweet and respectful, not a hint of anything out of place. "How could that image—so raw, so revealing—belong to her?"

Yet, despite himself, his mind betrayed him, flashing back to that photo. The curve of the waist, the glint of the chain—it all felt too familiar. He glanced back at her, noticing the soft lines of her figure under her clothing. No, she wouldn’t wear something like that, he reminded himself. She was never one for racy clothes, let alone anything that provocative. And yet, the thought festered, clawing at his certainty. 

A flicker of doubt crept into his mind. Could she really be so different around others , with Vishal ? He scolded himself for even thinking it, feeling a pang of guilt, but it was as if the image had planted a seed—a haunting curiosity he couldn’t quite shake.

He glanced down at the photo again, his mind running wild despite his better judgment. Even as he tried to brush it off, the image had taken root, twisting his thoughts in directions he hadn’t dared consider before. He could almost see Afrah in his mind—Afrah, with that same silver waist chain glinting against her skin, denim shorts hugging her curves, thighs firm and inviting, a crop top just barely brushing the curve of her waist. The thought stirred something in him, a mix of anger and longing he didn’t want to acknowledge.
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"Should he ask her? But what would he even say?"He’d sound insane asking her if it was her in that picture, or pressing her about some cryptic message. And yet, with each passing moment, the quiet, nagging thought grew louder, daring him to confront her, to pry into things he’d tried to ignore.


In the balcony after :

Sohail leaned on the balcony railing, feigning interest in the view but keeping his eyes on Afrah. “The party at my boss’s place was grand, you know?” he said casually, his tone light. “Big-shot businessmen, politicians, everyone was there. Even Vishal—your boss—came with some lady. Must be his girlfriend or wife.”

Afrah blinked, the slightest flicker in her expression before she masked it with a calm face. “Oh?” she replied nonchalantly, barely glancing his way. “He isn’t married.”

“Yeah,” Sohail said, watching her carefully. “Then she must’ve been his girlfriend.” He paused, weighing his next words. “It was… quite a night. If I’d known, maybe I would’ve taken you along too.”

Afrah looked up, her tone steady. “I don’t really like going to parties, especially ones for your bosses.”

He nodded, feeling a small tension as he pressed, “I know, still, it’s good to go out sometimes.” He hesitated, trying to sound casual. “So, what were you up to that night?”

She met his gaze with an easy smile. “I was out with Hina. She wanted to go shopping, and then we grabbed coffee.”

“With Hina, huh?” he repeated, forcing a chuckle to cover the pang of unease creeping up.

She gave him another calm smile, like everything was perfectly normal. But in Sohail’s mind, questions churned. 'Was she really with Hina?' His mind wavered, telling himself she was telling the truth—he hadn’t seen her at the party, after all. And John had said it was just some lady with Vishal, maybe someone else entirely.

But even as he clung to these reassurances, fragments of that hazy evening kept flashing in his mind—the foggy image of two figures entwined, the woman’s voice, Vishal’s face. He clenched the railing, holding back the questions spiraling inside him. Yet the doubt lingered, gnawing persistently, leaving a bitterness he couldn’t shake.

As he watch Afrah went in ,Sohail tried to force clarity from the jumble of memories, flashes of that night slipping through his mind like half-formed shadows. He remembered standing with Vishal, leaning against the bar as the crowd buzzed around them. The dim lights had flickered overhead, casting an erratic glow, making everything feel disorienting.

“Afrah’s a good homely girl,” Sohail had asserted, trying to defend her against the unspoken implications lingering in the air.

Vishal hadn’t answered immediately. Instead, he had merely smirked, his eyes glinting with something darker. “Good girls have a way of surprising you,” he had said casually, leaning closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Especially when they’ve got someone that would bring their bad side .” 

Sohail’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Vishal had taken a slow sip of his drink, his gaze lingering on the crowd, before turning back to Sohail with a teasing glint. 

The memory unraveled, slipping into a new scene—back in that dim room, the bed rumpled beside him. The haze of alcohol clouded his mind as he tried to recall the sound of a woman’s low moan that had filled the dark. Then, a name—Vishal's name, gasped out in a breathy whisper: “Ahhh, Vishal! Oh god, you’re so big…”

"Was it Afrah’s voice?"

He didn’t know, couldn’t be sure. His mind twisted the moments together, placing her in a scenario where she hadn’t been. She’d said she was out with Hina, hadn’t she? Shopping, grabbing coffee…

Clutching the edge of the balcony, he fought against the rising tide of suspicion. Inside, Afrah talked softly with his mother, her alibi as solid as the walls around them. He knew she’d been out; he "knew" she wasn’t there—right?

But the memory refused to fade. The moan, the whisper of Vishal’s name, that twisted grin of his friend—everything felt like a disorienting nightmare blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.

"Was it really her? If not her… then who?"

His heart raced, caught in the grip of uncertainty. He felt torn between confronting her with what little he thought he knew and the fear of unearthing truths he wasn’t ready to face—or worse, realizing he had been chasing shadows of his own making.

Just as he turned to walk back inside, his phone buzzed again, a jarring sound that shattered his thoughts. He glanced down, dread pooling in his stomach as the screen lit up with another message from that unknown number. 

"Wait until you see the real her. 
More surprises to come"




.

[a2011]

amazing

[DuraiBabu]

While this one is a different perspective, it is mostly inside Sohail's head! The real tease comes from Arfah's perspective which makes this story stand out. Don't loose that track - that's your best bet! Keep regular updates coming...

[damien123456]

this one is good but the perspective of arfah and vishal is the best so this one is not match that moreover if afrah gonna cuck sohail then its good to go in the perspective of afrah

[Johnnythedevil]

Awesome

[Zoz34]

While this one is a different perspective, it is mostly inside Sohail's head! The real tease comes from Arfah's perspective which makes this story stand out. Don't loose that track - that's your best bet! Keep regular updates coming...

Thank you for your input , surely I will work on it.And I hope you will like the next update.

[Zoz34]

this one is good but the perspective of arfah and vishal is the best so this one is not match that moreover if afrah gonna cuck sohail then its good to go in the perspective of afrah

Thank you for your input.

[a2011]

this perspective is good too...hoping to hear the other's perspective of all the details of that party

[Zoz34]

Afrah pov:

Afrah exhaled slowly, relief washing over her. "That was close." Sohail hadn’t pieced it all together. He hadn’t seen her at the party that night, but she could feel his suspicion lingering. She knew it was risky with Vishal . But she couldn’t deny the thrill that lingered, an electrifying memory of that night still vivid in her mind.

The party night2 days ago)

Afrah pov:

It had started innocently enough. She’d been out with Nida, picking through clothes at a small boutique when her phone had buzzed. "Vishal."

Vishal:"Where are you?” 

“I’m shopping,” she’d replied.

“Good,” he’d said . “Pick out something sexy. Meet me at the parking lot in an hour. We’re going to a party.”

“Vishal, I can’t,” she’d said, casting a glance at Nida. “I’m busy—and I’m with Nida my friend.”

“But you’re my girlfriend, remember?” he’d teased.

She’d rolled her eyes, feeling her cheeks warm. “Your pretend "girlfriend.”

But he’d only laughed, brushing past her objections with that effortless persuasion he always seemed to wield. Within moments, he’d convinced her.

Afrah had turned to Nida, offering an apologetic smile. “I just got an important call—I have to go,” she’d lied.

Nida had nodded. “No problem. I’ll head home too. Let’s catch up tomorrow?”

They stepped outside together, parting with a quick hug before Nida flagged down an auto and disappeared into the evening. The moment her friend was gone, Afrah felt the thrill of secrecy flood through her. Instead of heading home, she turned back into the mall, heart pounding as she made her way to a boutique she’d noticed earlier.

The red chiffon saree caught her eye instantly—vibrant, bold, and nothing like the modest outfits she wore around her family. She slipped into the fitting room, dbanging the fabric over herself, feeling its sheer elegance flow across her curves, the rich red contrasting with her skin in a way that made
 her feel undeniably daring.


Afrah stepped out into the parking lot, feeling the cool night air brush against her exposed skin. She could feel Vishal’s eyes on her immediately, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe, lingering on every curve the saree so boldly displayed. Each step she took was deliberate, her hips swaying just enough to let the soft chiffon ripple over her body, clinging to her form before flowing down like liquid fire.

The saree’s fabric glimpses of her toned waist . The low-cut blouse was daringly close to slipping, its slender straps accentuating the smooth line of her shoulders as she walked toward him with a sultry confidence. 

She met his gaze, a faint smirk on her lips, knowing that he was enchanted . Vishal’s eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of her, his attention locked on her as she closed the distance between them.


As Afrah stopped just in front of him, Vishal’s lips curled into a slow, appreciative smirk. His eyes roamed over her, lingering, before meeting her gaze with a glint of mischief.



He reached out, fingers grazing the edge of her pallu, and added, “I’m beginning to think you chose that shade of red just for me. Trying to test my patience, are you?”

She felt his eyes drop to her waist to her exposed bare skin.Vishal leaned in just slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, “Or maybe you’re trying to drive me mad, hm? Because if that was your plan… it’s working.”


Afrah smirked, tilting her head as she met his gaze with a playful glint. “Oh, I just wanted to look good for my pretend boyfriend,” she said, her tone dripping with mock innocence, one eyebrow arched as she let her fingers toy with the edge of her pallu.

Vishal’s smirk widened, his eyes flickering with amusement as he stepped just a little closer. “Pretend or not,” he murmured, his gaze intense, “you’re setting a dangerously high standard for ‘just looking good,’ Afrah.” He let his eyes linger again, making sure she noticed. “Makes me wonder… just how far you’re willing to go to keep up this little act of ours.”


As Afrah entered the party on Vishal’s arm, her eyes caught a familiar face across the room—a striking woman with an air of confidence, watching her closely. Afrah didn’t know her name, but she recognized her immediately. That woman. She remembered catching her and Vishal in a passionate kiss at the mall parking lot during their first encounter, a scene that had stirred a pang of jealousy she hadn't fully understood at the time. 

Tonight, though, it was different. Tanya’s smile was polite, almost sweet, but her narrowed eyes and tense posture betrayed her displeasure. Afrah felt the silent challenge in her gaze, the unspoken message that she wasn’t welcome, that her presence beside Vishal was a threat. 

But Afrah didn’t back down. She kept her arm intertwined with Vishal’s, her expression unruffled as she met Tanya’s stare with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile of her own.


Afrah’s heart raced as Tanya approached, her confident strides echoing a mix of hostility and intrigue. “So, this must be your new catch,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of jealousy as her gaze flicked between Afrah and Vishal. 

Vishal flashed a disarming smile, seemingly unfazed by the tension in the air. “Afrah, this is Tanya. Tanya, this is Afrah.” 

Afrah met Tanya’s gaze head-on, refusing to look away, determined to hold her ground. 

Tanya’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Nice to meet you, Afrah. I hope Vishal is treating you well.” Her tone was light, but the underlying challenge was unmistakable. 

“Of course he is,” Afrah replied smoothly, her confidence rising. “He’s a great guy.” She couldn’t resist the slight edge in her voice, knowing how it must irk Tanya. 

Vishal chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. “Come on, ladies, let’s enjoy the night.” But Afrah could sense the subtle battle unfolding, each woman vying for Vishal’s attention, each wanting to assert her place beside him. 

As the party continued around them, Afrah’s pulse quickened. She was in this game now, and she wasn’t about to back down. Tanya might have history with Vishal, but tonight, she intended to make her mark.


Afrah watched Tanya as she sauntered closer, her presence commanding attention. The way Tanya wore her skin-tight dress, hugging every curve ,accentuating her figure in all the right places.

With a coy smile, Tanya lifted her wine glass to her lips "You know,” she said, her voice dripping with honeyed allure, “it’s always a pleasure to see someone like you at these gatherings. You bring such... excitement.” Her gaze held his, challenging Afrah in a way that made her blood boil.

Afrah felt a knot form in her stomach, the way Tanya bit her lip, drawing attention to her glossy pout, was infuriating. Every movement was designed to ensnare Vishal's gaze, and she was succeeding. It was a performance, and Afrah was unwillingly part of the audience.

Tanya leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, “You must tell me about your adventures with Vishal. I can only imagine the fun you two have together.” The words were laced with implication, and Afrah could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay composed. This isn’t a competition, she reminded herself, but deep down, she knew it was. Tanya was making her move, and Afrah would have to step up her game if she wanted to keep Vishal's attention. 

With a tight smile, Afrah responded, “Oh, we have our moments.” The words slipped out smoother than she felt, but she could see Vishal’s interest piquing, a flicker of something in his eyes as he looked between them. 'No way was she letting Tanya win this battle.'

Afrah’s gaze was drawn to Tanya as she shifted slightly, the slit of her dress riding up, revealing a glimpse tonned thigh. The movement was effortless, and it was clear Tanya was fully aware of the effect it had. Every inch of her was crafted to seduce, a weaponized allure that made Afrah’s heart race with a mix of jealousy and determination.

With a seductive smile, Tanya leaned in closer, her voice low and sultry as she directed her words toward Vishal. “You are looking so fine in this suit,” she said, her tone dripping with flirtation. 

Afrah’s stomach churned at the invitation, the way Tanya’s words seemed to weave a spell around Vishal, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Afrah could almost see the wheels turning in his head, caught between the familiar warmth of her company and the dangerous allure of Tanya.

Tanya’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and she took a step closer, her body almost brushing against Vishal's as she laughed softly. 



The charged atmosphere shattered with the sudden arrival of Tanya’s husband. He strolled toward them with a wide, friendly grin, completely oblivious to the heated undercurrent between his wife and Vishal. Unaware of the affair they’d once shared—or the flirtatious spark still lingering in Tanya’s gaze—he greeted them warmly, his presence a stark contrast to the intensity that had filled the air just moments before.

“Vishal! Great to see you!” he exclaimed, extending his hand for a firm shake." And who is this lovely lady?"

Vishal introduced her.“Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady despite the swirl of emotions. She watched as Tanya’s demeanor shifted effortlessly from sultry seductress to the devoted wife, a role she played well, yet Afrah sensed the facade.

“Just wanted to say hi before we head to the ...,” Tanya’s husband continued, his attention momentarily drifting back to his wife. “You know how she is when it comes to parties—she loves to mingle.”

Tanya shot a sly look at Vishal, her smile sharp as she leaned in closer to her husband, whispering something that only he could hear. The way she swayed her hips as she turned to leave was almost hypnotic, and Afrah couldn’t help but feel a sting of envy. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with a teasing challenge. 

“Don’t miss me too much,” she cooed, her voice dripping with seduction as she glanced back at Vishal. The words hung in the air, an invitation laced with mischief that made Afrah’s pulse quicken. It was as if Tanya was deliberately flaunting her allure, leaving a lingering promise behind as she walked away.

Afrah crossed her arms, a hint of jealousy creeping into her voice. “You were enjoying that, weren’t you? It’s quite the show you’ve got going on.”

Vishal raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “What can I say? Tanya has a way of turning heads.”

“You’re such an evil man, seducing a married woman,” Afrah shot back, her tone feigning disapproval but laced with an undercurrent of challenge.

“And I’m now trying to seduce you, who is engaged,” Vishal replied smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Afrah couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “And you will not succeed,” she asserted, trying to sound confident even as butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

“Oh, I’m halfway successful,” he countered, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Remember, you’re my date tonight, my sexy girlfriend.”

“Pretend girlfriend,” Afrah corrected, but the words felt less convincing as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

Vishal chuckled, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Ah, but what’s a pretend girlfriend without a little bit of real chemistry?” His gaze held hers.

She blush and turn.Afrah felt a thrill course through her as she turned away from Vishal, letting the rhythm of the music take over. Her hips swayed slowly, deliberately, each movement accentuated by the flow of her saree against her ass. She knew Vishal's gaze was fixed on her, his eyes tracing the elegant lines of her backless blouse that clung by delicate thin straps, exposing the smooth expanse of her fair skin. The cool air brushed against her bare back, adding a delicious shiver to her already heightened senses.

“Let’s get some drinks,” she called over her shoulder, her voice carrying a playful challenge, daring him to follow. As she made her way to the bar, she felt the subtle weight of other eyes on her, lingering with admiration, but her own gaze was drawn only to him. She knew every step, every glance, was only for Vishal, and that thought alone made her pulse race even faster.

At the counter, she ordered a cocktail, glancing back at him with a sultry smile. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice low and inviting.

As she waited for the bartender to prepare her drink, she picked up her glass, letting her tongue tease the rim before slowly licking it, leaving a trail of her lipstick behind. She turned to Vishal, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and raised the glass to her lips, giving it a playful kiss.

“Care for a taste?” she offered, holding the glass out to him, the lingering marks of her lips a tantalizing invitation. 

Vishal’s gaze dropped to the glass, then back to her, a grin spreading across his face. “someone is getting a little bold,” he said, taking the glass from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers, sending a shiver of excitement coursing through her.

Afrah leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as she teased, “Just don’t want my boyfriend roaming around with married women.” She smirked playfully, her eyes glinting with challenge. “Can’t have you getting distracted, can we?”


Vishal pov:


Vishal likes that she is getting bold 

Just moments ago, as Afrah walked ahead of him, her movements were nothing short of a mesmerizing dance. The red saree clung to her body like molten silk, hugging every curve, wrapping around her hips in a way that highlighted their perfect, rounded shape. Each step she took set her hips in motion—a slow, deliberate sway that made them lift and dip in a sensual rhythm, as though her body moved to music only she could hear. The fabric flowed like liquid over her skin, accentuating the shape of her toned, wide hips, making them appear almost hypnotic, drawing his gaze with an unbreakable pull.  


[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Her blouse was barely there, its daringly low back exposing the smooth expanse of her bare skin, a vision of flawless beauty against the bold red of her attire. Held together by only a single, delicate strap at the top, the blouse left her back almost entirely exposed, her skin glowing under the soft lights, casting a radiant warmth that seemed to pulse with each step she took. Vishal’s eyes trailed over every inch of her bare back, following the gentle curve of her spine down to where the saree hugged her waist, teasing a glimpse of her soft, inviting skin beneath. 

Her hips moved like a pendulum, an enchanting sway that was as teasing as it was graceful. Every subtle lift and dip felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly the effect her movements were having on him. Her back arched just slightly, the thin strap of her blouse accentuating the curve of her shoulders, adding a bold allure to her delicate form. The air between them thickened, charged with an intensity that was both electric and undeniable, and Vishal found himself utterly captivated, unable to look away, completely lost in the seductive spell she wove with each step she took.







She looked utterly irresistible tonight, radiating confidence and a hint of mischief, and he couldn't help but enjoy the subtle possessiveness she seemed to feel after the run-in with Tanya. It had only fueled her competitive side, and he was more than entertained by the silent back-and-forth between them.


As he sipped his drink, he noticed her watching him, her lips parted in a playful smirk, her teeth sinking teasingly into her full, red lips. She didn’t miss a beat as he raised his eyebrow. "You aren’t having a drink?" he asked, his tone lightly teasing.

Without a word, she reached over, took his glass from his hand, and brought it to her lips. Her gaze held his as she took a slow, deliberate sip, the movement sultry and calculated. She left a mark of her red lipstick on the rim, her eyes glinting with a spark of challenge as she handed it back to him.

"Your turn," she murmu
red, voice low and daring, the lingering imprint of her lips a silent invitation he couldn’t ignore.








As they stood there, Afrah’s fingers drifted to her saree, and with a subtle, practiced movement, she adjusted the dbang, causing the delicate fabric to fall away just enough to reveal her smooth, inviting navel. Her fingertips lingered against her bare waist, tracing a slow, almost absent-minded line along the soft curve of her skin. The cool air kissed the exposed skin, accentuating the gentle dip of her navel and the alluring lines of her toned midriff. 

[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Vishal’s eyes darkened as he watched her, mesmerized by the way her hand moved, gliding slowly over the fabric and then brushing against her bare skin, drawing attention to the seductive curve of her waist. The saree, now resting dangerously low, hugged her hips even tighter, framing her body with an almost deliberate boldness that left little to the imagination. He could feel the eyes of others in the room drifting toward her, drawn in by the same irresistible allure. Yet Vishal’s gaze remained locked on her, his thoughts filled with the image of her soft, exposed skin and the barely concealed promise in her teasing smile.
Vishal’s mind drifted into forbidden fantasies as he watched Afrah’s delicate fingers trace the curve of her waist. Her skin looked impossibly smooth, like the finest cream, glowing under the soft lights. He imagined his hands replacing hers, feeling the warmth and softness of her buttery skin beneath his touch, every inch inviting him closer.

His thoughts grew bolder, envisioning the thrill of leaning down to press his lips against her bare waist, his tongue tracing a slow, tantalizing path along that flawless skin. He could almost taste the warmth of her, the softness yielding under his touch, every inch as sweet as he imagined. The thought of his mouth exploring her, savoring the smooth expanse of her waist, set his pulse racing, a raw, primal desire building within him. She was intoxicating, and the way she adjusted her saree with such casual allure only fueled his need, making his fantasies spiral even deeper into temptation.

Catching her eye, he leaned in, voice low and a bit playful, “Something’s missing.”

She bit her lip, feigning innocence. “What?”

“A waist chain would make it even more... alluring,” he replied, his tone filled with a hint of admiration.

She gave him a sly smile, letting her fingers brush over her waist. "It draws too much attention from your pervert eyes," she teased, a glint of mischief in her gaze.

Vishal’s smile was slow and suggestive. “Next time,” he murmured, “you’ll wear it for me.” She rolled her eyes with a playful smirk, catching his hand just before it reached her waist and giving it a light slap. “You and that chain,” she teased, clearly enjoying the game as much as he was.

She turns and leaned against the bar, she arched her back, making her hips and ass push out in a way that seemed almost crafted for his eyes alone. The saree hugged her curves, clinging to every line, every dip, each contour revealed as though the fabric had been painted onto her skin. His eyes roamed over the exquisite curve of her ass, barely concealed by the saree’s soft dbang, each sway of her hips sending a pulse through him.


[img]<a href=[/img]" />

When her drink arrived, she smirked slightly, picking up an ice cube between her fingers, holding it as if knowing the effect it would have on him. Vishal’s breath hitched as she lifted it to her neck, the coolness pressing against her warm skin, leaving a faint glistening trail that caught the light in the most tantalizing way. She drew it down, ever so slowly, following the line of her neck to her collarbone, letting the ice melt and leaving her skin dewy, as though inviting him closer.

“It’s so hot in here, isn’t it?” she murmured, her voice innocent but her eyes anything but. Vishal’s gaze followed as the ice moved lower, lingering right at the edge of her blouse, teasing him with just a glimpse of the soft skin beneath. His mind filled with thoughts of his hands and lips tracing those same trails, savoring the coolness against her warmth, exploring every inch of her exposed skin. 


[img]<a href=[/img]" />



Vishal’s eyes were fixed on her, captivated as she traced the cube along the curve of her shoulder. She locked eyes with him, then lifted the ice to her lips, pausing just long enough to let it slip between them, before letting it melt back into her glass. 


As Vishal held her close, Afrah’s gaze drifted across the room, landing squarely on Tanya. Her lips curled into a sly, victorious grin, a look that spoke volumes as she leaned even closer into Vishal, letting the possessive hold linger. She wanted Tanya to see—no, to 'feel: the message that Afrah was sending without a single word.

With a subtle, almost teasing sway, Afrah tilted her head, keeping her eyes locked on Tanya as if to say, 'He’s with me now.' The way Tanya's eyes narrowed in response only made Afrah’s grin deepen, satisfaction flickering across her face. 

Then, as if she had just a passing thought, Afrah turned back to Vishal, brushing her fingers against his shoulder, her voice soft but clear enough to carry. “I hope 'everyone: here sees who you’re really with tonight.”





As Afrah pulled away, a rush of excitement bubbled up inside her. She’d seen the look in Tanya’s eyes—the flash of jealousy and irritation—and it felt like a small, delicious victory. Her lips twitched into a smirk as she turned to Vishal, still savoring the moment. 

“I need to go freshen up,” she said, letting her fingers trail down his arm before stepping back. “And you, Mr. Vishal, better behave while I’m gone.” She gave him a playful, pointed look, tapping his chest lightly. “No more… lurking around, okay? Be a good boy.” 

As she walked away, she cast a quick glance over her shoulder, catching his smirk and the way his eyes followed her every move.


Afrah stood in front of the mirror, applying a fresh coat of lipstick, her heart racing with exhilaration. She tilted her head, admiring the way the deep red contrasted with her glowing skin, accentuating her full lips. Her reflection looked back at her, and she couldn’t help but snap a few selfies, posing in the sultry lighting of the washroom. 

With each click of her phone, she felt more and more empowered, her confidence swelling as she captured the essence of the woman she wanted to be tonight—sexy, bold, and unapologetic. She checked her saree one last time, adjusting the dbang so it hugged her curves perfectly, teasing just enough skin to leave a lasting impression. 

Stepping out of the washroom, she took a deep breath, ready to face the party again. 
Afrah's heart raced as she caught sight of Sohail, deep in conversation with another guest. Panic surged through her. She didn’t want to be caught .

She ducked behind a nearby pillar, her breath quickening as she pulled out her phone. Her fingers trembled as she texted Vishal.

"Where are you? I need you!"

She pressed send and held her breath, glancing over her shoulder to keep an eye on Sohail. Her heart sank as she saw him laughing, his back turned, but she could feel the dread building. What if he turned around and saw her? 

She bit her lip, feeling the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She didn't want to cause a scene or draw attention to herself. She just needed to stay hidden until she figured out what to do.

Just as she was starting to feel trapped, her phone buzzed with a reply from Vishal.

"What’s wrong? Where are you?"

"In the hallway near the washroom. Sohail is here. I'm scared he’ll see me."

A moment later, he replied, "Stay put. I’m coming."

Afrah felt a wave of anxiety wash over her as she clutched her phone tighter. What if Sohail spotted her? What would she say? She leaned against the cool wall, her pulse pounding in her ears. 

She watched as Sohail continued his conversation, the laughter around her amplifying her nerves. She felt so exposed, hiding while her heart raced with fear. Her mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

Finally, she saw Vishal approaching, his expression shifting from playful to serious as he noticed her distress. He stepped closer, his voice low and soothing. “Afrah, what’s going on?”

“I... I didn’t want him to see me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m scared, Vishal. What if he finds out?”

Vishal reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe. We can figure this out together. Just stick close to me, alright?”

Afrah's heart raced as Vishal led her up the dimly lit stairs, the soft hum of the party fading behind them. She could feel a mix of excitement and apprehension, her mind swirling with thoughts of being caught by Sohail. Just as she hesitated at the top of the stairs, Vishal turned to her with a teasing grin.

“Relax, Afrah. We’re not going to get caught here. Besides, if Sohail shows up, I’ll handle him. I’ve always got your back,” he said, his tone playful yet reassuring. 

She looked up at him, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “You promise? I really don’t want to face him tonight.” 

Vishal chuckled, the sound low and inviting. “Trust me, you’re safe with me. Think of this as our little adventure.” He stepped onto the balcony, motioning for her to follow. 

As she stepped out, the cool evening air brushed against her skin, contrasting with the warmth radiating from her. The view from the balcony was breathtaking; they could see the entire party below, the flickering lights dancing like stars in the night. 

Afrah leaned against the railing, her heart fluttering as she gazed down at the crowd, the music vibrating through her. “It’s beautiful up here,” she said, trying to calm her racing heart. 

“Just like you in that saree,” Vishal replied, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. 

She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks at the compliment. “You’re just saying that,” she teased, but the heat of his gaze made her pulse quicken. 

“No, I mean it. You look absolutely stunning,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her, lingering on the way the chiffon clung to her curves. 

She blushed again turned toward the balcony , looking at party , spotted Sohail by the bar ,felt Vishal near her back ,his hand sliding to her waist ,her lips parted, she didn't turn.

Look at him ,he is unware that his beautiful fiance is with me , pinching her ,soft waist ,she gasp.Her ass was collide with him.

Has he ever seen you something as sexy as the saree you are wearing now? His breath on her neck.

No , she said softly.

His hand powerfully griped her waist and pulled her towards him, he kissed her back ,then neck, she gasp, 

She could still see Sohail ,this is so wrong yet thrilling ,his hand plays with her waist a little but slowly one hand was going upward ,as he is about reach her boobs,she stop him turned and kiss him.


Afrah blushed again, her heart racing as she turned her gaze toward the lively party below, trying to distract herself from the electric tension between her and Vishal. She caught sight of Sohail at the bar, his back turned, blissfully unaware of the thrilling secret unfolding just a few feet away. As she felt Vishal's presence drawing nearer, his warm hand slid possessively to her waist, sending a jolt of heat coursing through her body. Her lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t dare turn to him.

“Look at him,” Vishal murmured, his voice low and teasing, almost a purr against her ear. “He’s completely unaware that his beautiful fiancée is right here with me.” He pinched her soft waist gently, making her gasp. The collision of her ass against him ignited a fire deep within her.

“Has he ever seen you in something as sexy as this saree?” Vishal continued, his breath hot against her neck, igniting her senses. The sheer fabric clung to her curves, and she could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, caught between the thrill of the moment and the lingering guilt.

In an instant, his grip tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him. The warmth of his body enveloped her, making her acutely aware of every inch of their connection. He leaned down, kissing the delicate curve of her back before trailing soft, teasing kisses along her neck. She gasped, the sensation igniting a wildfire within her as she caught another glimpse of Sohail, his laughter echoing in the distance. This was so wrong, yet the thrill of being caught only heightened her desire.

Vishal’s hand began to explore, fingers dancing teasingly along her waist, slowly inching upward, dangerously close to her breasts. Just as she felt the heat of his touch threatening to breach her limits, she turned abruptly, capturing his lips with hers in a fierce, breathless kiss. It was intoxicating, a whirlwind of longing and urgency as their mouths moved together, her body instinctively pressing against him. She could taste the sweet hint of alcohol on his lips, mingling with the spicy flavor of their reckless evening.

With each kiss, she surrendered to the delicious chaos of desire. The world around them faded as she melted into him, feeling his warmth seep into her very core. The thrill of hiding, the danger of being caught, and the heat of his body against hers spiraled into an intoxicating mix that sent her heart racing even faster.


The kiss deepened, a wild mix of desire and urgency that ignited something primal between them. Their tongues danced and tangled together, slick and eager, sending sparks through Afrah’s body. The soft, wet sounds of their mouths colliding echoed in the stillness of the balcony, as she pressed herself closer to him, her heart racing wildly against her chest. 

When they finally broke apart, she was breathless, her lips tingling from the intensity. “Just a kiss for you, remember,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, laced with a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension. “Nothing else. I have to go home, Vishal; it’s getting late, and we could get caught. Just book me a taxi, okay?”

But Vishal’s gaze was unwavering, fixed on her heaving breasts.Each inhale made the fabric hug her tighter, revealing the smooth contours of her body, and the sight made his pulse quicken. Afrah could feel the heat radiating from him, a magnet pulling her closer, an undeniable allure that made her shiver with anticipation.

“Okay, one more kiss, then I’ll call you a cab,” he said, his voice a low, sultry murmur that sent a thrill racing down her spine. “You can slip out through the backdoor. No one will know you were here.”

Blushing under his heated gaze, Afrah felt a rush of thrill mix with the apprehension. She leaned in again, surrendering to the chemistry that crackled between them. Their lips met once more, and this time, the kiss was a hungry exploration, filled with the urgency of unspoken desires. The warmth of his body enveloped her, and she could feel every inch of him pressing against her, heightening her senses. 

As their mouths moved together, lost in the passionate embrace, his hands traveled to her waist, gripping her tightly. She could feel his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her saree, the subtle caress sending electric shivers through her. With deliberate slowness, one of his hands slid upward, tracing the outline of her curves, his fingers grazing her side before landing softly on her breast.

“Vishal…” she gasped, the sound escaping her lips like a plea as he squeezed gently, his touch igniting a fire within her. The sensation was overwhelming, leaving her dizzy with pleasure. Despite the thrill of being so close to being caught, she leaned into his touch, craving more. Their kiss deepened, becoming more intense, more primal, as he explored her body with a hunger that mirrored her own. She moaned softly, lost in the moment, the world around them fading away.

Finally, they parted, both gasping for breath, their faces flushed with desire. The heat of the moment still lingered, the air thick with tension.

“You’re a bad boy,” Afrah managed to tease, her voice breathless but edged with playful authority. “You should control your hands. If you can’t, then no more kisses.”

Vishal’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “But what’s the fun in that?” he replied, his voice low and seductive, sending another wave of shivers down her spine. 

She could feel her heart racing as she contemplated his words, the thrill of their connection igniting a new kind of excitement within her. “You’re incorrigible,” she said, half-laughing, half-breathless, her heart pounding with the thrill of the moment.

“Maybe,” he replied, stepping closer once again, his gaze roaming over her as if memorizing every 
curve and contour. “But you love it.”


Vishal pov:

Vishal watched her leave. He could have easily taken things further tonight, could have pressed his advantage and drawn even more from her—but he held back, letting restraint win out over impulse. There was a thrill in drawing her out slowly, watching her grow bolder with each encounter. He wanted to see that spark of confidence, that hidden vixen within her, fully unleashed.

Vishal returned to the party, noticing for the first time how many alluring women were mingling around, their laughter and flirtatious glances filling the air. It was as if Afrah’s presence had cast a shadow over everyone else earlier, but now, without her around, his attention drifted. 

Spotting Sohail standing by his boss, Vishal straightened, slipping into his confident charm as he approached them. He greeted Sohail's boss with a firm handshake, exchanging pleasantries and nodding at Sohail, who seemed slightly unsteady from a few too many drinks. 

After some casual conversation, Vishal drifted back into the crowd but kept an eye on Sohail. A short while later, he found him nursing another drink at the bar, a slight sway in his stance. Taking the opportunity, Vishal approached with a casual smile.

“Hey, Sohail,” he started smoothly, leaning in as if sharing a friendly word. “You know, Afrah’s really something. Excellent employee, dedicated, and,” he added with a small, almost playful grin, “she certainly knows how to make an impression, doesn’t she?”

He watched Sohail’s reaction closely, reading the subtle tension in his expression. It was as if a flicker of discomfort flashed across Sohail’s face, and Vishal felt a thrill in stirring that hint of possessiveness.


Vishal leaned against the bar, swirling his drink as he kept his gaze on Sohail. "Vishal leaned against the bar, swirling his drink as he kept his gaze on Sohail. "You know, Sohail, you’ve got quite the catch with Afrah," he said, his tone teasing yet pointed, watching for any reaction.

Sohail gave a slight nod, his face softening as he responded, "Yes, she is. Afrah’s... she’s a nice, homely girl. She’s grounded, traditional, you know?"


Vishal smirked to himself, the edge of his glass resting just below his lips as he thought, This doofus has no idea that his beautiful fiancée was in my arms moments ago, kissing me like her life was depand on it.
Glancing back at Sohail, he noticed a flicker of insecurity in the man's eyes, softened by his drunken state. Vishal leaned in, feigning casual curiosity, all the while savoring the irony. 'Sohail doesn’t deserve a girl like Afrah," he thought. The innocence and devotion Sohail associated with her only added a layer of thrill to what had just transpired. Vishal’s gaze lingered on him, wondering if the man had even the slightest inkling of how fragile his hold
 over Afrah might be.



Leaving the bar, Vishal spotted Tanya standing alone, her gaze scanning the room. A smirk played on his lips as he approached her, half-expecting her to be furious after the attention he’d given Afrah. But instead, the moment she saw him, her eyes gleamed, and before he knew it, she was pressed against him, as if she’d been holding back for too long. Her hands slid around his neck, pulling him close until their lips met in a fierce, heated kiss, her hunger unmistakable.

In the dim corner, his hands roamed her curves, one slipping to grip her waist while the other slid lower. With a mischievous grin, he smacked her ass, earning a playful gasp that only fueled the intensity between them. Tanya melted into him, her lips and body pressing harder as they continued, lost in their secret moment away from prying eyes.

"Your are so wet , aren't you slut?” he teased, his fingers deftly finding her most sensitive spot. 

“Yes,” she moaned softly, the heat of the moment enveloping them.

“Please,” she pleaded, her eyes wide with a mix of longing and vulnerability, the intensity of the moment igniting a fire within her.

With a knowing smirk, he guided her down gently, their eyes locking in an electric connection, as she looked up at him with those doe-like eyes, full of anticipation and desire.



He pushes his hips forward, presenting his hard, slick cock in front of Tanya. “Get to work,” he orders. His words―or rather, his tone―put Tanya under a spell. She has no need to argue or test him. She just does exactly as he tells her. “Sir, yes, sir,” she responds as she drops down to her knees, his cock right in front of her face. His huge, veiny, sexy, thick cock.


Tanya hungrily shoves his shaft against her lips, slobbering all over it. The head and shaft of his cock are dripping with her saliva as she runs her tongue over every inch she can—all ten of them.


Once his cock is all spit-soaked, she wraps her lips around it and sucks hard against her tongue. She grinds the tip of it against the roof of her mouth, twisting her entire head as she takes as much of it as she can.

Vishal moans in approval and starts pumping his hips against her face. His feet are planted firmly on the floor, and he uses his core strength to thrust his cock deeper into her mouth.

She happily swallows the head of his cock, sliding it down into her tight throat. She moans, letting the sound vibrate against his huge cock. He moans even louder in response.


Tanya look up at as him as she stroke his cock.



“Not satisfied yet, Tanya? What do you want, slut?” he said.

"I want you to fuck me"said Tanya.


Vishal effortlessly lifted her over his shoulder, giving her a playful smack that made her gasp and laugh softly. She wrapped her arms around him, letting herself be carried, feeling the thrilling pulse of the forbidden. 

He pushed open the door of a guest room, fully expecting privacy. But as they entered, he stopped short, spotting Sohail sprawled on a sofa, lost in a heavy, drunken sleep. Vishal’s eyes narrowed as he smirked, the irony of the moment hitting him. 


Vishal set Tanya down on the second bed, his gaze unwavering as he leaned in, his hands roaming her curves with a firm, possessive grip. Tanya’s nervous glance flickered over to Sohail, asleep and oblivious on the other bed, and she whispered, “But… what if he wakes up?”

Vishal smirked, pulling her closer. “Trust me,” he murmured with a glint in his eye. “He is a pussy,He won’t do anything.” He brushed his lips over hers, his hands kneading her.

“Just focus on me,” Vishal whispered, bringing her back to him, leaving any thought of Sohail as nothing more than a fleeting shadow in the background.

Tanya squeals as he turns her over and bends her on the bed. He lifts up her skirt and yanks down her panties, noticing he may have ripped them in the process. She squeals again in excitement, jutting her ass out. Wasting no time, he puts on a condom, positions the head of his cock at the entrance of her pussy, and shoves into her canal.


“Oh my fucking God, Vishal!” Tanya moans out loud. She starts squirming on his cock, like a bug pierced by a needle—her arms writhing all over the sheet.
His cock is going in and out of her she nod her head and bite her tongue.

Tanya looks like she's going crazy, grunting and groaning like an animal in heat. Her eyes are clouded with lust, and her hands are desperately trying to grab hold of something—anything.

She hits one of the phones along the side of the bed. He doesn’t know which one, but whatever—it actually feels pretty good.
He closes his eyes and goes back to imagining the women he’s been with, thinking of all the things he’s wanted to do with them.

“Oh baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard!” he tell her.


“Oh unggggghh, baby, it’s so daaaa….good,” she moans again.


“Tell me how much you want it,” he tell her. He hold onto her hips and increase his tempo. “Oooohh,” Tanya coos. “Eeeeee,” she pants. At least that’s what it sounds like.
 He haven’t opened his eyes yet. Just going by auditory impulses. “Tell me how much you
you fucking love my cock,” he says.


As Vishal pressed his body against Tanya's, the heat and urgency between them built to a fever pitch. Their movements created a symphony of sounds, the soft rustle of fabric, the light thud of bodies colliding, and the breathy gasps that escaped their lips, echoing in the dimly lit room. Just as Vishal deepened the kiss, lost in the moment, a muffled voice broke through the haze.

“No, Afrah! No, Afrah, please!” Sohail's slurred words cut through the tension, pulling Vishal and Tanya back to reality. Sohail, still caught in the fog of drunkenness, was stirring on the other bed, his bleary eyes barely focused but unmistakably fixated on them.

Vishal froze for a heartbeat, a mixture of amusement and irritation flickering across his face. He exchanged a glance with Tanya, whose expression shifted from surprise to a smirk of mischief, as if the drama only added to the thrill of the moment.

Vishal continued his movements, a smirk on his lips as he ground against Tanya, feeling her warmth and desire beneath him. 
This cuck thinks I am fucking his fiance now, thought Vishal looking at Sohail scar
ed expression.A wicked idea came to his mind,which brings him to edge .

[Vinty03]

Great story of possible hve a phone sex

[Joseph Rayman]

Excellent update

[rehanalina]

The story is going good. It will be interesting to know whats the end game for Vishal. Does he want to marry Afrah or is he just playing with her.

[sexycharan]

It is very clear that vishal wants to change sohail a cuck and fuck afrah for life and make her carry his child in her womb. Vishal does not want to break the family but as a bull wants to pleasure the woman that starve for it. Vishal is a good human and he deserves a nobel prize.