Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust

[a2011]

brilliant update...what a story!

[Mailsalman01]

last two update u submitting arfah too easily dont do that,

[Vinty03]

Excellent update pls add some photos

[damien123456]

nice update bro but don't let afrah to open her legs so easily make vishal to beg her to do that

[DuraiBabu]

Yes, I too agree! In the last couple of updates, Arfah is losing too easily! Her speciality is driving Vishal crazy and that element is missing! Also bring back those night talks and photo chats!

[kangaani]

Super, she is going to have her firstnight and honeymoon before the marriage with wimp.

[sexycharan]

Good update

[KGB]

Fantastic update

[damien123456]

bro waiting for the update

[opheliyaa]

SL is going to be life changing

[Zoz34]

At dinner, Afrah pushed her food around on her plate, barely eating. Her mind was consumed by the promise she had made to Vishal about the Sri Lanka trip. She knew what it would lead to if she went with him.

Her Ammi’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 



She forced a smile and nodded, but her thoughts were anything but calm. The weight of her promise to Vishal and her mother’s words clashed in her mind, leaving her torn between desire and duty.


Her Ammi’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.  

Ammi: "Afrah, I was thinking today about how time flies. Just yesterday, you were a little girl running around the house, and now... now we’re preparing for your wedding. Life moves so fast, beta."  

She gave Afrah a warm smile but then sighed, her tone becoming reflective.  

Ammi: "Do you know what makes a marriage strong? Sacrifice, trust, and understanding. A girl has to leave behind so much—her home, her family—but she gains a new world in return. It is a woman duty to make a home out of a house ,a woman can make a home or breakit.

Afrah swallowed hard, her throat dry. Her Ammi’s words weren’t accusatory, but they felt like a mirror, reflecting her choices and actions back at her. Was what she was doing with Vishal right? Was it fair to Sohail?  



Afrah felt her stomach twist as her Ammi’s words settled over her like a heavy weight. She nodded mechanically, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unable to find the peace her mother seemed so certain she should have.


Later that night, as Afrah aimlessly scrolled through Instagram, her guilt and uncertainty only deepened. A post appeared on her feed—a man pouring his heart out about the pain of being betrayed by his wife’s infidelity. His words were raw, filled with heartbreak and anger.  

She scrolled further and came across another post, this one filled with sharp judgment. A woman was being shamed, called a whore for having multiple relationships before marriage. The comment section was even worse, teeming with harsh opinions.  

"A woman who is not a virgin is not marriage material,"one comment .

Afrah stared at the words, her heart sinking. The comments were a storm of condemnation and moral policing, each one heavier than the last. She felt a lump form in her throat as she realized how society could be unforgiving, particularly towards women.  

Her thumb froze mid-scroll, and her mind replayed the events of the day. Her promise to Vishal, her Ammi’s words, and now this—it all pressed down on her chest like an unbearable weight. Was she heading down a path that would lead to regret and shame? Would her actions make her unworthy in the eyes of her family, her faith, and even herself?  

Afrah set her phone aside, feeling overwhelmed. The posts, the comments, her mother’s voice—all of it echoed in her mind, leaving her questioning everything.

She again read the comments  

"And do not approach unlawful sexual intercourse. Indeed, it is ever an immorality and is evil as a way."

The caption elaborated on the importance of chastity before marriage.
The comments were filled with discussions about the value of virginity.

"A woman’s chastity is a crown of honor; it’s a trust "

"A man has every right to expect his wife to be a virgin on their wedding night. It’s what is written , and anything less is dishonor." 

Afrah's heart felt heavier with every word. These reminders of faith and societal expectations clashed painfully with the reality of her actions and desires. 

Her mind spiraled as she placed her phone down, the words of her Ammi and the comments lingering in her thoughts like a constant reminder of the crossroads she faced.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, always encouraging her to be pious, to live a life that aligned with their values and faith. Ammi had often spoken about how a woman’s modesty and righteousness were her greatest treasures.  

But then there was Vishal. He was like a sweet poison—irresistible and addictive. He gave her pleasure that was almost otherworldly, a sensation so intense that it left her craving more. Yet, it wasn’t just the physical satisfaction. Vishal made her feel powerful.  

Through whispered gossip with her married friends, Afrah had learned that many men didn’t care about a woman’s pleasure. Some didn’t even know how to give it. They spoke in hushed tones about feeling ignored in their bedrooms, about fulfilling a duty rather than sharing intimacy.  

But Vishal was different. He didn’t just care—he reveled in pleasing her. The memory of him kneeling in front of her, his mouth worshipping her as she sat on his chair, sent a shiver through her body. The image was intoxicating, the way he surrendered to her, making her feel like a angle.

The thought stirred a heat inside her, making her ache with desire. Yet, even as the memory aroused her, a nagging voice in her head whispered that what she was doing was wrong.  

She clenched her fists, torn between the intoxicating power Vishal gave her and the guilt that weighed heavily on her soul. Could she continue down this path, knowing it went against everything her family and faith stood for? Or had she already gone too far to turn back?


As her mind wrestled with conflicting emotions, her fingers absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. Suddenly, a picture of Vishal appeared on the screen. He was shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat, his sculpted six-pack and broad chest on full display. The photo was from their Goa trip, and he looked impossibly sexy—so effortlessly magnetic that her breath hitched.  

Her eyes stayed locked on the image, admiring every detail of his physique. But then her gaze drifted downward, focusing on the waistband of his shorts. A flash of memory jolted her.  

She was there, in Goa, wearing a low-rise denim skirt and a cropped top that showed off her bare waist. She had felt confident, sexy, and free. The salty breeze had brushed against her skin, and she had been laughing at something when Vishal had suddenly pulled her close.  [img]<a href=[/img]" />

Her ass had pressed firmly against him, and for a fleeting moment, she had felt something hard and big against her. At the time, she hadn’t given it much thought, distracted by the moment, by the thrill of being so near him.  

But now, staring at his picture, her mind raced back to that moment. Was it what she thought it was? Her cheeks flushed, her pulse quickening as her imagination filled in the gaps her memory had left behind.  

Her eyes returned to the picture, lingering on his shorts, as a mix of curiosity and arousal bubbled up inside her. The thought was impossible to ignore now, her body responding to the memory even as her conscience screamed at her to stop.


Her mind, already a whirlwind of emotions, jolted to another memory—one far more vivid and racy. It was that fateful night in the car, the night everything had changed between them.  

She could still feel the tension in the air as Vishal leaned closer, his mouth work on her pussy lips for the first time. 

In that fateful night before his mouth found his way to her pussy, he had pulled her over to his  car seat, her ass landing squarely on his lap, she had felt it—hard, unyielding, pressing against her through his pants. The realization had made her heart race wildly, but she hadn’t dared to acknowledge it out loud.  [img]<a href=[/img]" />

And then, her hand... it had accidentally brushed against him. 

Now, sitting alone with these memories flooding her mind, her body responded involuntarily. A mix of shame and longing coursed through her as she recalled every detail, every stolen moment of that night. It was a memory she could never erase, no matter how hard she tried. A memory that defined the dangerous hold Vishal had over her.



No, this has to stop," Afrah whispered to herself, her voice trembling but resolute.

"I have to end this," she said more firmly this time, standing up. No more crossing lines.


Next day:

The next day at work, during the meeting, Afrah felt it—Vishal’s eyes on her, burning into her like a damn laser.  

She didn’t dare look up, but her body betrayed her. Her thighs pressed together, heat pooling between them as dampness spread in her panties. She tried to focus, tried to keep it together, but his stare had her shifting in her seat, her breath hitching.  

Damn it, she thought, biting her lip. He wasn’t even touching her, and yet here she was, already soaked.  


She was sure he’d call her to his cabin after the meeting, but he didn’t .

Around the later half of the noon ,when Vishal called her.

It was dangerous territory, and she knew it. As soon as Afrah entered his cabin, she began to blabber nervously, “We should stop this... this isn’t right. We can’t do this anymore.”  

Vishal stepped closer and gently placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face toward his. “Shh,” he whispered.

Vishal:“Are you afraid of me?"


Afrah shook her head, her breath hitching as she tried to steady herself.  

Vishal: what are you afraid of? Always remember, you have control over me. I’m bound by your hands.

Her eyes widened, meeting his, unsure of what to say.  

Vishal:“I’ll never do anything without your permission Not only that, but I’m bound to fulfill your every wish. Don’t you remember?Mouth on your feet as I knelt in front of my princess.”  

Her heart pounded in her chest, his words wrapping around her like a spell. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to push him away, but her body betrayed her. Her lips ached for his, her resolve crumbling under the weight of his intensity.  

She took a hesitant step back, trying to put some distance between them, but her feet fumbled. She stumbled, and Vishal caught her with ease.  

In the chaos, her hand brushed against his crotch, and she froze, her cheeks flaming. She could feel the unmistakable hardness beneath his pants, and it sent a shockwave through her body.  

“Careful, princess,” he murmured, his grip on her firm yet gentle, his tone laced with both amusement and desire.



She should have taken her hand back, should have stepped away, but she didn’t. Instead, her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling as her eyes flickered downward. The sight of him—the way his pants were strained, the fabric tented by his arousal—made her pulse quicken.  

Her gaze returned to his, wide and filled with a mix of fear and desire.  

Vishal:“Look,how you’ve bound me by your enchantment.Your hand,is enough to control me at your will.”  

Afrah’s mind screamed at her to stop, to pull away, to leave the cabin and never look back. But her body wasn’t listening. Her hand, as if it had a will of its own, began to move. Slowly, her fingers rubbed him over the fabric of his pants, feeling the heat and hardness beneath.  

Vishal groaned softly, his breath hitching as her touch grew bolder. “See, princess?” he murmured, his words heavy with both power and submission. “Even now, I’m yours to command.”  

Her heart raced wildly, a dangerous mix of guilt and longing twisting inside her. But as her hand continued its forbidden exploration, all rational thoughts seemed to fade into the background.


Her soft hands traced the hard length through the fabric of his clothes. She heard Vishal gasp softly, and then felt it twitch slightly beneath the material.


She knew she shouldn't be doing this—it was so wrong, she was determined to stop it all yet so incredibly erotic. Her fingers brushed against the hard length beneath the fabric, and she heard Vishal's breath catch, his body responding as it grew under her touch. Her breath hitched at the sensation; it felt overwhelming, almost too much to grasp. Her hand trembled as she cupped him, the fabric straining under the pressure of her soft, delicate fingers. It was so hard, so firm—she could feel the outline clearly now, every inch pulsing with heat beneath her touch. She squeezed again, and Vishal’s gasp was a low, desperate sound that sent shivers through her body. 

She locked eyes with him, seeing the silent plea in his gaze, as if his entire being was begging for more. Her hand moved again, squeezing gently, feeling his body twitch in response. His lips parted, but before she could give in to the overwhelming urge to kiss him, there was a sharp knock on the door, pulling her back to reality.


The knock shattered the charged silence, jolting her back to reality. Her hand froze, and she pulled away as if burned, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. 

Without a word, she stood, her legs unsteady beneath her, and smoothed her dress and left his cabin.


What have I done? she thought, her chest tightening with a mix of regret and longing. 


Home:

At home, her Ammi called out to her, snapping her out of her daze. “Come help me in the kitchen,” her mother said, her voice tinged with impatience. 

“Wash these brinjals,” her Ammi instructed, handing her a small basket. 
As she noticed the bringsl some other things came to her mind. As she ran water over it, her mind betrayed her, pulling her back to the office.  

She remembers her trembling hand gliding over the hard cock beneath Vishal’s trousers, the way it twitched at her touch. Her pulse quickened as the memory replayed itself vividly. She squeezed the brinjal absentmindedly, the sensation triggering a wave of heat that rushed through her body.  

Lost in thought,it heightened her arousal. Her fingers wrapped around the smooth, firm surface, sliding up and down as she cleaned it. Her grip unconsciously tightened, mimicking the way she had rubbed Vishal’s length over his pants.  

As she continued stroking the brinjal, her mind betrayed her, blurring the lines between reality and memory. It wasn’t just a vegetable anymore; it felt like him—his cock. She could picture it vividly, stroking it in her hand, the way his body had twitched under her touch, and the desperate gasps he’d let out. Her breath grew shallow, and her cheeks burned as the sensations replayed in her mind, stronger and more vivid this time.  
[img]<a href=[/img]" />
Her hand moved almost on its own, wrapping tighter around the brinjal, stroking its length as if it were Vishal. The forbidden thrill returned, her body tingling as the memory consumed her. The shape and firmness of the brinjal only deepened the ache she had been trying so hard to ignore.  

Ammi:"Afrah, what are you doing? Why are you playing with it? Hurry up and give it to me!" 

Afrah froze, realizing her hand was still moving, gripping the vegetable too tightly. She quickly placed it on the cutting board, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, I’m coming. Just a moment," she stammered, avoiding her mother’s gaze.  


She cursed herself for the dirty thoughts invading her mind, but her curiosity was relentless. What would it feel like to hold his length without any fabric in between? The thought sent a shiver through her, unbidden and unstoppable. Her body betrayed her—heat pooling low within her, a dampness she couldn’t ignore.

Her cheeks burned as she cursed herself again, desperate to shake off the forbidden desires, but the memory lingered, stubborn and unrelenting, teasing her resolve.


After dinner in her room 

Just as Afrah was about to shake off her thoughts, her phone buzzed with a message from Vishal.

Vishal:Thinking about me?

Afrah quickly typed her response, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts.  

Afrah:No.

Vishal:You're a lying brat, princess ?

She bit her lip, trying to keep her cool.  

Afrah:I'm not thinking about you.

Vishal:But I am thinking about you. I think you left some inspection incomplete...

Afrah's heart skipped a beat. She knew exactly what he was referring to. Her hand, caressing his hard length over his pants. The thought made her blush. If only he knew what she'd been doing with the brinjal earlier. She should control herself. She shouldn’t flirt back, but...  

Afrah:I think I completed the inspection.

Vishal:Reports say you only inspected from the outside. Didn't check the material from the inside.

Afrah:I think outside inspection is enough to know how the product is.

Vishal:I disagree, Ms. Afrah. You should inspect it fully. Sometimes, people have a wrong notion about the product based on just the outside. But the product could be a different monster altogether.

  

Afrah:What if that monster is bad? What if it bites me?

Vishal:Maybe... maybe not. Maybe it just needs your love. Maybe kisses.

Afrah’s fingers trembled as she typed, her thoughts swirling.  

Afrah:Monsters don’t deserve love. They deserve punishment.

Vishal:Then maybe you should punish it with your hand.

 She felt a rush of heat as she read his message.




Vishal: But before you punish the monster, you deserve punishment for leaving the inspection incomplete.


Afrah What would be my punishment?



Vishal: For your punishment, you need to apologize properly.

Afrah:Properly?

Vishal: Yes. A picture apology first.



Afrah: What kind of picture apology?

Vishal: Something sincere, princess. Show me how sorry you are. I’ll let you decide how.

She stared at the screen, biting her lip. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, half-scandalized and half-tempted. Afrah knew she should put an end to this game, but the thrill of his attention, the push and pull, was intoxicating.




Vishal’s POV:

The first picture she sent was a cute selfie, nothing too daring. She flashed a soft smile at the camera, her eyes shimmering with playful innocence. Vishal could tell she was trying to keep it light, but he felt the subtle mischief behind it.

Vishal: Though I like your effort, apologies should be more sincere.

He waited, feeling the anticipation build in his chest. A few minutes passed before his phone pinged again. This time, it was a video.

The video began with Afrah in front of a mirror, the frame capturing her full figure. She wore tight, dark trousers that clung to her like a second skin, molding to the curve of her wide hips and thick thighs, the fabric stretched and taut, teasing with every move as it accentuated her every curve. The top she wore was casual ,but her figure made any outfit laced with seduction . She held the phone in one hand, the other playfully lifting her top higher, revealing the sinuous curve of her waist and the alluring dip of her stomach, the bare skin gleaming like a forbidden promise meant to captivate.

Vishal’s eyes darted down, watching as the fabric stretched against her skin. Even though her pose wasn’t overtly revealing, the way her body was framed, the way her hips swayed, made her cock throbbed in pant. Her thick thighs were barely contained by the tightness of the trousers, the fabric brushing against her skin as if it was just a second layer. 
[img]<a href=[/img]" />


The camera zoomed in, capturing her waist—just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the soft curve, the fabric riding up slightly to expose her skin.

Her waist looked impossibly soft, like butter beneath her fingertips. The soft curve of her waist drew the eye, the subtle dip of her navel teasing just above the waistband, inviting attention. Each subtle shift of her body caused the fabric to cling tighter, her stomach's soft swell barely contained, a provocative hint of flesh visible as it stretched against the tight material, daring anyone to look. She didn’t need to do much to captivate him; just that subtle, barely-there glimpse was enough.
[img]<a href=[/img]" />

Vishal’s cock was hard, realizing that she knew exactly what she was doing. She was fully aware of his obsession with her waist, with the way her body curved so effortlessly. And there she was, playing with it, letting him


Vishal: I’m happy with your apology. It seems like you're sincere. Next time, don’t finish your work halfway.

Afrah: Glad you accept my apology. I actually prepared another one, more sincere than the last one, just in case you didn’t like it.



His cock jerked in his pants, a sharp, unexpected reaction that had him clenching his jaw. She was teasing him now, pushing every button with precision. Her game was clear, and it was working.


Vishal: Maybe you should send me the apology for future review.

Afrah: Then I"ll ve nothing for future mistakes.

Vishal: You will be thoroughly punished for future mistakes. Now send me the apology.

Afrah: No, I have to save it for future purposes.

She was being bratty, challenging him.He liked the way she toyed with him, the boldness in her words, the way she twisted everything with such confidence.

Vishal: If you don’t send the apology, how would I know you won’t repeat the mistake again?

Afrah* I won’t repeat the mistake again, I’m sending you something that will show you my intent.

Her response was a deliberate tease, and Vishal’s pulse quickened. She knew exactly what she was doing—leaving him on the edge, anticipating what she would send next. It wasn’t just the words, it was the power she wielded over him. And it was only making him crave her more.



Then came a picture. At first, Vishal noticed the long, thick brinjal in the image. His eyes lingered on it, and then, as he looked closer, he saw her hand. His pulse quickened, his body reacting to what she was implying by sending this picture.

Her soft, fair hand was wrapped around the brinjal, fingers delicately gripping it, as if she were holding something else entirely. The contrast between her pale skin and the dark, thick vegetable was enough to make his mind race. She knew exactly what she was doing, 
sending this, and it wasn’t just the image of the brinjal that made his cock throb—it was the insinuation behind it.


To be continue

[Hotyyhard]

wow what an erotic update

[DuraiBabu]

Ah! now that's the right tempo for this story! Eroticism at core and Arfah being centre of it. Also I see your brilliance in writing from Arfah's mother's advise - this could be a perspective how Arfah can get back conservative once again back on track! Keep regular updates coming please..

[Vinty03]

Great sexy update

[xboard1986]

Lovely

[opheliyaa]

There cannot be more tease than this. Simply awesomeeeeeee

[Gilmalover]

Super erotica

[Karmayogee]

Afrah transformation is awesome

[drillhot]

Lovely going. Afrah is not afraid of monster. She treats it just like a brinjal.

[Zoz34]

wow what an erotic update

Ah! now that's the right tempo for this story! Eroticism at core and Arfah being centre of it. Also I see your brilliance in writing from Arfah's mother's advise - this could be a perspective how Arfah can get back conservative once again back on track! Keep regular updates coming please..

Great sexy update

Lovely

There cannot be more tease than this. Simply awesomeeeeeee

Super erotica

Thanx