Wicked Whispers

[rinxox]

Pls admin approve it.

[rinxox]

Pls admin approve it.

It was noon when Ali returned home from the market, his arms weighed down by grocery bags. As he approached the house—a neatly maintained, double-story home in a quiet, upscale neighborhood—he noticed a car parked in the driveway.  

It was Noor's car. Ali recognized it instantly. His son, Ayan, was at his friend's place for the day—a rare opportunity for Ali to have some time alone with Sheeza. Privacy was a luxury in their well-furnished yet busy home.  

But that chance seemed lost now, with Sheeza's friend's car sitting there. He lingered near the gate for a moment, glancing at the closed curtains of the living room window. A part of him wondered if he should just leave again, but curiosity held him in place.


Ali's grip tightened on the doorframe as he listened to their conversation. The mention of Asish had caught him off guard. He had never heard that name before, yet it seemed to mean a lot to Sheeza.  

He leaned in closer, his pulse quickening. From his hidden spot, he could see them now—Sheeza and Noor, seated comfortably on the bed. The room was softly lit, the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains, casting gentle shadows.  

"I'm married now. Is he not married?" Sheeza's voice carried a mix of curiosity and caution.  

Noor's grin widened. "Still curious, I see. Want to know who he's married to?"  

Sheeza hesitated, her expression wavering between curiosity and something deeper—something Ali couldn't quite place.  

"Who?" she finally asked, a note of vulnerability in her voice.  

Noor leaned back, enjoying the suspense she was building. "Still interested in him, huh? Still imagine being his wife? Well, he's married to Nisha—you remember her, right? From our junior batch. But honestly, I think he's still that same old Asish. The charming, carefree one... You know him better than anyone. Everyone had a crush on him—even me! I used to have some very... racy dreams about him."  

Noor's playful confession was met with Sheeza's mock glare, followed by a burst of laughter that rang warmly through the room. The two women shared a moment, their laughter mingling, yet Ali felt a knot tightening in his chest. 

Ali's mind reeled as he listened to Noor's bold, unfiltered words. Each revelation hit him like a punch—raw, unexpected, and unsettling. The image of his wife, modest and composed, a picture of grace and decency, now blurred with the wild, uninhibited woman Noor described.  

"Can you blame me? I heard your moans so many times when he used to fuck you while I waited outside the room. Remember the Manali trip? You guys were like rabbits, fucking all day!" Noor giggled, a mischievous glint in her eyes.  

Sheeza's cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and nostalgia flickering across her face. "It's not like that," she muttered softly.  

Noor laughed louder. "Oh please, spare me! Like I haven't seen you two doing it. Remember New Year's night, in his car? You literally blew him while I was in the backseat, and he was driving!"

Sheeza's light slap on Noor's arm only made Noor laugh harder. Ali's head throbbed as his world tilted. The woman he had known for years, the wife who now wore modest dresses, who spoke softly and carried herself with restraint—had she really been this bold, this sluty before they met?  

All the times he had asked about her past boyfriends, her relationships before him, and Sheeza had always brushed it off, denying any significant history. Had it all been a lie? The idea that she had shared such intense, intimate moments with someone else while hiding it from him all these years stung sharply.  


"You were looking so beautiful with his cock in your mouth,"Noor teased, her voice bold and unabashed.  

Ali's breath caught in his throat. Did he just hear that right? His wife—the woman he knew as modest, composed, and almost reserved—had done something so... brazen.  

His mind raced, caught between disbelief and a strange, unwelcome arousal. In all their years together, Sheeza had rarely done that for him—only on rare occasions, and only after much persuasion. Yet here she was, described as someone entirely different, someone soslutty.

An image flashed through his mind, vivid and intrusive—Sheeza, his beautiful, demure wife, naked with another man. Her lips wrapped around him, eyes glimmering with a look Ali had rarely seen. The thought left him reeling, sickened and yet strangely electrified.  

He pressed himself tighter against the wall, his heart hammering. Noor's laughter and Sheeza's flushed, embarrassed face came back into view. There was a side to his wife he had never known—a side that had existed before him, a side she had buried deep.  



"So...?"Noor prompted, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.  

"So... what?" Sheeza replied cautiously, her voice a bit hesitant.  

"Oh, Sheeza, what about meeting him?" Noor pressed, a smirk dancing on her lips.  

Ali's heart pounded. He silently begged Sheeza to shut it down, to refuse firmly, to laugh it off as a silly suggestion. But her response came hesitant, uncertain.  

"I don't know..." Sheeza's voice trailed off, her tone lacking conviction.  

Ali's mind raced. Why wasn't she more decisive? Why wasn't she shutting this down completely?  

"He just wants to see you," Noor coaxed gently.  

There was a pause, a moment of silence heavy enough that Ali could almost hear Sheeza's thoughts.  

"But Ali... would it not be deceiving him?"Sheeza's voice was soft, conflicted.  

Ali's chest tightened. She was thinking about him—about their marriage—but there was still a wavering in her voice that unsettled him. Why wasn't it a clear, firm no? Why did it sound like she was considering it, weighing it, rather than rejecting it outright?  

A part of him wanted to burst into the room, to confront them, to demand answers. Yet another part—more uncertain, more vulnerable—kept him rooted in place, unable to move.

[rinxox]

P

Sheeza, his wife, stood beside her—a picture of modesty in her long salwar suit. The pastel fabric dbangd gracefully over her curves, her dupatta pinned carefully to her shoulder. Her fair, radiant skin glowed softly, framed by her thick, dark hair. Her face was angelic, almost serene, a stark contrast to the wickedness he had just overheard.  

Noor, on the other hand, wore tight jeans that hugged her shapely legs and a fitted top that revealed a hint of her waist whenever she moved. She carried herself with a confidence that bordered on provocation, while Sheeza's demeanor was softer, gentler—a blend of tradition and grace.  

"Oh, Ali! You're back early!"Sheeza greeted him with a gentle smile, her eyes bright and unsuspecting.  

"Yeah, finished a bit early," Ali replied, forcing a casual tone.  

Noor leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Just in time to interrupt our girl talk," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.  

Ali managed a chuckle, but his mind was far from ease. 




At evening 


Evening time ,Sheeza was playing with their 6 year old son Ayan ,Sheeza looked so homlely , doing her motherly duty. But the whisper he heard in the noon was still playing in his head ,her homely wife , doing something so filthy still can't believe it.





That night, unable to shake off the thoughts clawing at his mind, Ali found himself reaching for his phone once Sheeza had fallen asleep beside him. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of his screen.  

He opened Instagram, searching through Sheeza's mutual connections first—looking for a name, a face, anything that could be Asish. Nothing. Her profile was neat, curated—family photos, vacations, occasional selfies. No sign of the reckless, wild past Noor had described.  

Frustrated but determined, he moved on to Noor's profile. Noor's account was more vibrant, unapologetically bold—pictures of parties, group photos, nights out. It didn't take long for him to find four profiles named Ashish. Two were private, hidden behind locked profiles, but two were open.  

One of them caught his eye—a muscular, athletic man, sharply handsome with a confident smile. Pictures of him at the gym, beach vacations, arms around friends. Ali's eyes lingered on a photo of him shirtless—broad shoulders, defined chest, the kind of physique that drew attention.  

Could this be him? The thought gnawed at him. Was this the man who had once been with Sheeza? The man whose name she couldn't outright reject meeting? The man whose cock she had taken in her mouth, wild and reckless, while Noor watched from the backseat?  

Ali's fingers trembled. He didn't know whether to feel angry, betrayed, or something far more twisted. That night, when he finally managed to sleep, nightmares plagued him.  

He saw Sheeza—not the gentle, devoted wife he knew, but a different version of her. She was on her knees, her head bobbing as she took in a thick, veined cock, her eyes half-closed, a look of raw lust on her face. Noor's mocking laughter echoed somewhere in the background, taunting him, reminding him that this version of his wife had existed long before him.  

Ali woke up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding, his arousal throbbing shamefully beneath the sheets. He glanced at Sheeza, peacefully asleep beside him, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside him.  

It happened again the next night—and the night after that. Each time, the visions were more vivid, more explicit. Each time, he woke up aching, confused, torn between resentment and an unwanted arousal he could barely understand.




Over the next few days, Ali kept a close eye on Sheeza. He watched her closely—her routine, her behavior, her interactions. Did she seem distracted? Was she texting more than usual? Did she ever slip away for private calls?  

But there was nothing. She was just... Sheeza—his wife, the mother of his child, carrying on as usual. Her days seemed devoted to Ayan, managing the house, and occasionally chatting with Noor. If there were any traces of Asish lingering in her life, they were expertly concealed.  

Two weeks later, on a quiet Sunday afternoon, Ali found himself in the storeroom, searching for some of his old belongings. Amid the clutter of forgotten boxes and unused items, he noticed a small, worn-out diary. It was dusty, the pages slightly yellowed with age. Curious, he flipped it open and felt his breath hitch—it was Sheeza's.  

The dates inside were from her college days, years before they had met. He frowned, trying to recall how this had ended up in their home. Then it clicked—about two years ago, Sheeza’s parents had sent over some of her old things when they were shifting houses. This must have been among them.  

Ali's heart pounded. Could this diary hold the answers he had been searching for? Could Asish’s name be scribbled in these pages—an account of her past, her feelings, her experiences?  

A part of him hesitated. Reading someone’s diary felt like an invasion, a betrayal. But the memory of Noor’s words, the taunting images of Sheeza’s past, haunted him. He needed to know

Carefully, he slipped the diary into a drawer, hiding it away. He would read it later, when he could be alone—when Sheeza and Ayan were asleep. For now, it would remain a secret, a key to a past he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront.




That afternoon, when the house was silent and Sheeza and Ayan were asleep, Ali carefully retrieved the diary. His hands trembled slightly as he opened it, flipping through the pages filled with Sheeza's neat, flowing handwriting.

At first, it was mundane—her classes, her friends, her dreams and insecurities. There were mentions of college events, her professors, silly notes about Noor. It was an innocent glimpse into the younger version of the woman he married.

But then, between two pages, a photograph slipped out. Ali’s heart stilled. It was Sheeza—much younger, with a youthful glow and a thinner figure. She wore a red-pink sweater, jeans, and a red muffler. Her smile was wide, carefree, her eyes bright. Standing beside her, his arm casually around her shoulder, was a man. Muscular, tall, handsome. Ashish.

The background was a hill station—snow-dusted, picturesque. Manali. The name struck a chord.

Ali’s fingers tightened around the photo as he skimmed the pages nearby.

"The Manali trip was unforgettable—the most beautiful memories of my life. A made everything special. A brought me that pink sweater. It still smells like that trip, like those days. Like him."

His eyes lingered on the initial, A. There was no doubt it was Ashish. The trip Noor had taunted Sheeza about, the trip where she had apparently been reckless, uninhibited, shameless.

And then a memory flashed—one he hadn't thought of in years. A smoky room, college friends, passing around a phone. A grainy video clip—poorly lit, a couple tangled together, the girl riding the man with an urgency that made the clip so infamous. Someone had whispered, "It's a viral MMS from Manali."

Ali had seen that video countless times. Back then, it was just a scandalous clip—blurry, anonymous, thrilling . The girl's face had been mostly covered by her hair, but her pink sweater had stood out. A tight, red-pink sweater. Just like the one Sheeza wore in this picture.

His stomach twisted. Had he unknowingly watched his own wife—before she was his wife—fucking with another man ? Had he jerked off to her, fantasized over her, without even realizing it?

Ali stared at the sweater in the photo, his thoughts a chaotic storm. The idea seemed impossible, absurd. But the possibility loomed, taunting him, making his heart pound and his hands tremble.

Was it her? Was that girl in mms is Sheeza?

He shut the diary abruptly, shoving it back into the drawer. The weight of what he had just unearthed pressed heavily on his chest, leaving him breathless, aroused, and tormented all at once.

[Twilight123]

Wow.. fantastic start

[a2011]

Great updates

[Sana4891]

Kya shadaar likh rhe ho..best to come i think

[a2011]

waiting for an update...

[rinxox]

That single thought refused to leave his mind—his wife, the woman he always saw as shy, reserved, and deeply religious, possibly being the star of a viral mms. And not just any tape—a filthy, reckless fuck in public, the kind that had gotten passed around between horny college boys, making them groan as they stroked themselves to the sight of an unknown girl riding a cock with desperate need.  

And he—he had been one of them.  

Ali felt sick. And turned on. 

His head was a mess. He didn't know whether to confront her, to scream at her, or to lock himself in the bathroom and watch that damn video again, this time with a new perspective. Was it really her? Had he spent nights jerking off to his own wife getting railed by another man?  

Sheeza, his sweet, homely, modest wife, who now dressed in long salwar suits, who blushed when he touched her in public, who rarely even kissed him without dimmed lights—was this the same woman who once moaned like a slut in front of a hidden camera?  

Ali’s hands clenched into fists. He had fallen for her innocence, the way she lowered her gaze when he first met her at her parents' house. She had been too beautiful, too delicate, too innocent. He remembered how she had shyly smiled, how she had spoken in that soft, respectful tone. He had thought she was pure, a woman raised with strict values.  

And she had played the part perfectly.  

She do her religious duty,prey 4 times. She scolded him if he cursed too much. She refused to wear revealing clothes even at home, saying it was not proper. She had resisted when he had asked her to be more adventurous in bed.  

And yet… if that video was real, if that girl in the pink sweater bouncing on a thick cock was her, then all of it had been a lie.  

Not only had she had a boyfriend, but she had let him fuck her so wildly, so shamelessly, that the world had seen it.  

Ali’s cock twitched in his pants.  

He hated it. Hated that the mere idea of it was making him hard. Hated that despite his rage, his betrayal, his disgust—his body was betraying him.  

Because whether he liked it or not, the image was now burned into his brain. His beautiful, innocent wife, not so innocent after all.

 Lunch

The weekend visit to Sheeza’s parents' house was supposed to be a routine affair—polite conversations, home-cooked meals, and Ayan basking in the attention of his grandparents.

Ali sat with Sheeza’s father, a well-respected man in the community, still sharp and commanding even in his late fifties. The conversation revolved around business, investments, and Ali’s upcoming projects. The older man spoke with pride, treating Ali like the ideal son-in-law.

Meanwhile, Sheeza and her mother were busy in the kitchen, preparing lunch, while her younger brother, now nineteen, lazed around on the sofa, occasionally chiming into their chatter.

At the dining table, the conversation took a different turn.

“Sheeza was never interested in cooking,” her mother said, shaking her head. “Always running away from the kitchen during her college years.”

Sheeza huffed playfully. “I was busy studying.”

Her mother scoffed. “Studying? You were a bad student! Your results show it.”

Her younger brother smirked, jumping in. “Exactly. You barely passed some semesters. What were you really busy with, huh?”

Ali swallowed hard.

He looked at Sheeza, waiting for her reaction. She just laughed it off, rolling her eyes at her family’s teasing.

But his mind twisted the conversation into something darker.

Yeah, she was busy, alright.

Busy learning how to take a cock down her throat. Busy sneaking off with Ashish. Busy moaning like a little slut while her best friend Noor waited outside the room, listening.

Ali clenched his jaw as a sickening mix of anger and arousal coiled in his gut.

His mother-in-law had no idea. She thought her daughter had been innocent, just a distracted student. She had no clue that Sheeza had been a cock-hungry little thing back in college, bad at cooking but an expert at sucking dick.

The rest of lunch passed in a blur. He barely spoke, barely ate. The sounds of laughter, family warmth, all of it felt distant. His mind was still replaying that video—whether real or imagined—of Sheeza in that pink sweater, bouncing on another man’s cock in the hills of Manali.

The drive home was silent.

Sheeza noticed. “Ali, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just work stress,” he muttered, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

She reached over, resting her soft, delicate hand on his thigh. “Don’t stress so much. You already do so much for us. You don’t have to work so hard.”

Her voice was gentle. Sweet.

It only made him feel worse.

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that the past didn’t matter, that she was his now, devoted, loyal.

But the whispers in his mind wouldn’t stop.

Sheeza—his beautiful, religious wife—was once a filthy, reckless slut. And he had been blind to it all.



Two weeks had passed, yet Ali couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him.

Every time he met Noor, it was almost unpleasant. She always has that displease look on her face when she looked at him ,he had told Sheeza many times about it ,but Sheeza always dismissed it saying ,she is messing with him.

And now, she had invited them to her housewarming party.  

Ali didn’t want to go.  

Everything in him screamed against it, but something stronger, something almost paranoid, told him that Sheeza shouldn’t go alone.  

Why?  

Because deep down, he knew.  

There was a chance Ashish—Sheeza’s ex, the man who had once been between her legs, the man she had moaned for while Noor listened from outside the room—would be there.  

And if Ashish was there… Ali needed to be there too.  

 

The Night of the Party

Sheeza stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her saree.  

Ali watched her in silence.  

She rarely wore sarees, but when she did, she looked devastating. The deep maroon fabric dbangd over her curves like it was meant for her, the soft shimmer catching the light in a way that made his throat dry. She had gone to the salon earlier—her hair was styled in perfect waves, her eyeliner sharp, her lips painted a bold, sinful red.  

Ali’s jaw clenched.  

She looked… too beautiful. Too perfect.  

Was she dressing up for him?  

Or was she getting ready to see him?  

That old insecurity crept up again.  

Was this how she used to dress for Ashish? When she rode him in the backseat of his car while Noor watched? When she let him spill himself inside her in some cheap hotel room?  

Sheeza caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled. “What? Why are you staring?”  

Ali forced a smile. “You look… beautiful.”  

She giggled, adjusting her bangles. “You’re acting strange today. Are you feeling okay?”  

He wasn’t.  

He didn’t know why exactly, but his gut told him that tonight would change something.  

For better or for worse.  

“Are you ready?” she asked, picking up her clutch.  

Ali took a breath. “Yeah. Let’s go.”  

The car ride was silent.  

Sheeza hummed softly, occasionally adjusting the pleats of her saree, completely oblivious to the storm in Ali’s head.  



Noor greeted them, wearing a pink bodycon dress that accentuated her busty figure, with a teasing glimpse of cleavage.  

Ali knew Noor was a bad influence—she had a streak of boyfriends since he had known her. Now, her latest fling would be living with her.  

Soon, her boyfriend Raj joined them, placing a hand on her waist as he greeted them. Ali remembered him; Noor had been with him for a year. Otherwise, it was hard to keep track of Noor’s ever-changing relationships.  

The party was lively, the place buzzing with people.  

Noor took Sheeza’s hand and led her away, leaving Ali alone with Raj.  

They exchanged casual conversation over drinks, but Ali’s mind was elsewhere.  

His eyes were searching.  

Where was his wife?



Then he saw him.  

A tall, muscular guy standing close to Sheeza, speaking in a low voice that made her blush. She was tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smiling in that shy way Ali knew all too well.  

His chest tightened. He knew it was Ashish.  

Ali clenched his jaw. He couldn’t just stand there like a spectator—Sheeza was his wife. He had to assert his presence.  

He stepped forward. Noor was the first to notice, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.  

“Oh, Ali! Come here, meet an old friend—this is Ashish,” she said, her tone dripping with mischief.  

Ali extended his hand, gripping Ashish’s firmly.  

“I’m Ali, Sheeza’s husband.”  

Ashish’s lips twitched as if he was holding back amusement. “Ah, so you’re the lucky guy.”  

His words sent a strange heat through Ali’s veins.  

“I’m Ashish.”  

“How do you know her?” Ali asked, keeping his voice neutral.  

“From college,” Ashish replied casually, glancing at Sheeza, who shifted uncomfortably.  

Ali waited, sensing there was more.  

Ashish chuckled. “Man, those were some wild days, huh, Sheeza?”  

Sheeza forced a polite smile. “That was a long time ago.”  

“But unforgettable,” Ashish added, his eyes lingering on her. “She was the life of our group. Always up for… adventure.”  

Ali’s grip tightened around his drink.  

Noor interjected, laughing. “Oh, come on, Ashish, don’t embarrass the poor girl in front of her husband.”  

Ashish smirked. “Just reminiscing, that’s all. Those were good old days .”  

Ali could feel his pulse in his ears. He didn’t need the details spelled out—he could hear the insinuation dripping from every word.  

More people joined them, college friends of Sheeza and Ashish. The group was lively, swapping old stories, laughing, but Ali felt like an outsider.  

Every casual comment, every knowing glance, every chuckle carried a weight he couldn’t ignore.



Ashish swirled his drink, his eyes lingering on Sheeza before turning to Ali with a smirk. “You know, at first glance, anyone would think Sheeza was the quiet, studious type. Always so proper, always so... reserved.”  

Ali forced a small smile. “Yeah, she’s always been like that.”  

Ashish chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s the funny thing. You think you have someone figured out, and then they surprise you. Back in college, man… let’s just say Sheeza had a way of proving people wrong.”  

Sheeza let out a nervous laugh, adjusting the pallu of her saree. “Ashish, you’re making it sound like I was some kind of rebel.”  

Noor, sipping her drink, smirked. “Oh, but you were, weren’t you? Just in your own way.”  

Ali’s fingers tightened around his glass as Ashish continued, his tone casual, almost nostalgic. “I mean, yeah, she was disciplined. But once she got comfortable… well, let’s just say she could be very dedicated.”  

Sheeza swallowed, forcing a smile. “Okay, enough about college days.”  

Ashish raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no harm in reminiscing. Some people leave an impression, that’s all. Some memories just... stick.”  

Ali felt something churn in his gut as Ashish’s words hung in the air. Innocent enough on the surface, but the glint in his eyes told a different story

[a2011]

Great update.

[rinxox]

Noor broke out her camera and said, “Let’s get a picture.” I knew immediately what she was up to. I wasn’t paranoid. She wanted a photo of me with the guy who fucked my wife in the past. “I’m going to pass on photos,” I said, “I look ridiculous enough wearing this monkey suit on a summer Friday night..” “Oh come on, Ali, you look sharp,” Noor replied. “Well, I appreciate the compliment,” I said, “but I’ll rain check ” “I’ll rain check as well,” sheeza said, “I’m getting called



back to the table as it is.” “Oh come on. It’s one little photo. Humor me, it’s the last happy hour of the summer.” When Sheeza hesitated, Noor put her arm out for her to move in. Now Ashley was standing beside Asish. “Now come on ali, pose next to Ashley.” I felt fucked and didn’t know what to say. Noor reached her arm out to me saying “C’mon, get in there, you look great.” Suddenly I’m standing beside Sheeza waiting for Noor to snap the photo. “One more time. Sheeza was blinking.” And so I grinned and endured it again. I put my arm around her and then Sheexa put his arm around her as well. “This looks great,” Noor said as she showed it to us. I took a quick glance at the five of us posing and passed the camera back to Noor . I acted like it was no big deal. It was just a photo. But Noor had a self-satisfied grin. I suspected she had been waiting for that opportunity to pose sheeza between me and asish. 




----



Ali found himself stuck in a conversation about AI advancements and blockchain with a group of professionals who were just as passionate as he was.  

**Man 1:** "The way AI is evolving, I wouldn’t be surprised if it starts making business decisions better than CEOs."  

**Man 2:** "Yeah, but there’s always the ethical dilemma. AI can optimize for efficiency, but can it truly replace human judgment?"  

**Ali:** "Exactly. AI is great for pattern recognition, but decision-making? That’s still a very human trait. No matter how good it gets, intuition and experience play a huge role."  

The discussion flowed smoothly, and for the first time that evening, Ali was genuinely engaged. He even forgot the time.  

Then, instinctively, he glanced around. Sheeza wasn’t where she had been earlier. His chest tightened. He scanned the room again.  

Asish was missing too.  

His palms started sweating.  

He checked his watch. How long had he been standing here? Five minutes? Ten?  

Just as his mind started racing, he saw her.  

Sheeza was walking back into the room with Noor, laughing at something.  

His eyes darted to her face—was she blushing?  

His throat felt dry, but he forced himself to stay calm.  

He walked up to them, masking his unease. "Where were you two?"  

Noor smirked, tilting her head. "Relax, husband-of-the-year, we just went to check out the upstairs lounge. They’ve got an amazing view."  

Sheeza nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, it’s really nice up there. You should see it."  

Ali studied her face. Something about the way she spoke—casual, but avoiding his gaze—made his gut churn.  

Noor leaned in slightly. "Missed us already?" she teased, winking.  

Ali chuckled dryly. "Just making sure my wife isn’t getting lost at her own best friend’s party."  

Sheeza rolled her eyes playfully. "I think I can handle myself, Ali."  

Noor smirked again, this time looking past him—almost knowingly. "Oh, I bet you can."  

Ali clenched his jaw. Whatever had happened in those missing minutes, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.



Car Ride – Silence Fills the Air

Ali gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening as he stared at the road ahead. Sheeza stole a glance at him. He was tense, jaw clenched, eyes distant.  

She shifted in her seat. "Ali… what's wrong?"  

He didn’t answer immediately, just exhaled sharply. "Nothing."  

She frowned. "Don’t do that. I know when something’s bothering you."  

Ali scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Do you? Because sometimes I wonder how much I really know about you."  

Sheeza’s brows knitted together. "What’s that supposed to mean?"  

Ali drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I just... I just keep thinking about how you always told me you never had a boyfriend before me. That I was your first. But tonight… seeing you with Asish, the way you blushed, the way you two spoke—it didn’t seem like just ‘old college friends.’"  

Sheeza stiffened. "Ali—"  

He cut her off. "Was he your bf?"  


He saw her face changed,she didn't answer him for few seconds.

She inhaled sharply, turning to him. "Ali, it was… a long time ago. Before I met you."  

He let out a bitter chuckle. "That’s not what I asked."  

Sheeza hesitated, then looked down at her hands. "Yes… back then. But I was young. It wasn’t love, not like what we have."  

Ali clenched his jaw. "Then why lie? Why tell me you never had anyone before me?"  

She bit her lip. "Because I was scared. Scared that if you knew, you’d look at me differently. I was sacred that our marriage will not take place.I was sacred of loosing you.

She took his hand

 Ali, you’re my husband. My everything. What I had before… it was nothing compared to what we have now."  

Ali stayed silent, processing her words.  

She reached over, placing her hand on his. "I love you, Ali. Only you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you."  

His grip on the wheel loosened slightly. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  

Finally, he turned to her, his eyes softer now. "I just… I just wish you trusted me enough to be honest."  

She squeezed his hand. "I do trust you. And I promise, there’s nothing in my past that could ever change the way I feel about you."  

Ali exhaled, the tension in his chest easing. He didn’t have all the answers, but in that moment, as she looked at him with those deep, sincere eyes—he believed her.



In home


Sheeza stood in front of the mirror, fingers teasing the pin of her pallu before letting it slip down her arm. The silky fabric cascaded down, exposing the creamy expanse of her back and the soft curve of her waist. Ali’s eyes darkened with he took in the sight of his wife whom he was angry few hours ago.

 Her full, round ass, barely hidden beneath the sheer fabric of her saree, jiggled slightly as she moved. The saree clung to her curves, outlining the dip of her waist and the swell of her hips. His cock twitched in his pants as he watched her walk toward him, he rarely get to see her in saree but whenever she wears his cock react the same way.

When she reached him, she leaned down, pressing her warm lips against his. It started as a soft kiss, but Ali wasn’t in the mood for soft. His hands shot up, grabbing her ass through the thin saree, kneading her flesh greedily. She let out a breathy moan against his lips, her hips instinctively grinding against him.  

"Ali..." she whispered, her voice breathy, needy.  

His lips trailed down her neck, sucking on the delicate skin, marking her. She rarely initiate sex, tonight is such night.

She shivered as his tongue flicked against her collarbone. "I just... I want you,my love" she moaned.

his fingers slipping under the folds of her saree, teasing the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "You looks so sexy in saree ,jaan"

She whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled her onto his lap, spreading her legs wide over his thighs. He could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, the dampness soaking through the thin fabric of her panties.  

HE groaned, rubbing his fingers over the damp spot. She gasped, shaking her head.  

Ali didn’t need any more encouragement. He pushed the saree aside, his fingers slipping beneath her panties, finding her dripping and desperate for him. With a growl, he captured her lips again, knowing that tonight, he was going to reclaim every inch of his wife making her forget about her ex.

.Sheeza stood before him, her breath uneven, her fingers trembling as they worked to unbutton his shirt. She hesitated for a second, biting her lip, before finally peeling it off, revealing chest. 

Then, she stepped back, her hands moving to the pleats of her saree. With slow, deliberate movements, she unwrapped the maroon fabric from her body, letting it fall in a pool at her feet. Now, she stood before him in just her blouse and petticoat, her curves barely concealed. Ali’s throat went dry at the sight.  

She turned slightly, her hips swaying as she loosened the strings of her petticoat. The soft garment slid down her legs, revealing the delicious swell of her ass, round and perky, the perfect handful. His cock twitched painfully as he watched her, already rock hard, throbbing in anticipation.  

Ali pushed his pants down, kicking them off, standing fully naked and unashamed of how hard he was for her. Sheeza gasped, her gaze locking onto aching cock her lips parting slightly.  

Still wearing her blouse, she reached for the buttons with shaky fingers, undoing them one by one until the fabric gaped open, revealing her smooth, honey-colored skin. She let it slip from her shoulders, baring the tight, black bra that cupped her ample breasts, pressing them together in the most tantalizing way.  

Ali couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her body was pure perfection—wide, womanly hips built for being grabbed, thick, toned thighs that would feel heavenly wrapped around his waist, and a narrow, sinfully sexy waist that accentuated the tempting curve of her hourglass figure. Her breasts, round and firm, strained against the confines of her bra, her hardened nipples faintly visible through the fabric.  

His fingers twitched with the urge to rip that last piece of clothing away.  

"Fuck, Sheeza," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You look so damn hot."  

She flushed, her gaze dipping shyly even as her body betrayed her, shifting toward him with unspoken need.  

"You’re so perfect," he murmured, stepping closer, his hands sliding over her bare waist, feeling the heat of her skin under his touch. "Every inch of you."  

His fingers trailed lower, gripping her hips firmly, pulling her against him so she could feel just how hard he was for her.  

She let out a soft, breathy moan as he pressed against her, their bodies barely separated by the last remaining scrap of clothing.  

"Ali…" she whispered, her voice laced with desire.  

Ali smirked, his hands slipping lower. "I think it's time we get rid of these, don’t you?" He tugged at the waistband of her panties, watching as she shivered under his touch.  

In home


Sheeza stood in front of the mirror, fingers teasing the pin of her pallu before letting it slip down her arm. The silky fabric cascaded down, exposing the creamy expanse of her back and the soft curve of her waist. Ali’s eyes darkened with he took in the sight of his wife whom he was angry few hours ago.

 Her full, round ass, barely hidden beneath the sheer fabric of her saree, jiggled slightly as she moved. The saree clung to her curves, outlining the dip of her waist and the swell of her hips. His cock twitched in his pants as he watched her walk toward him, he rarely get to see her in saree but whenever she wears his cock react the same way.

When she reached him, she leaned down, pressing her warm lips against his. It started as a soft kiss, but Ali wasn’t in the mood for soft. His hands shot up, grabbing her ass through the thin saree, kneading her flesh greedily. She let out a breathy moan against his lips, her hips instinctively grinding against him.  

"Ali..." she whispered, her voice breathy, needy.  

His lips trailed down her neck, sucking on the delicate skin, marking her. She rarely initiate sex, tonight is such night.

She shivered as his tongue flicked against her collarbone. "I just... I want you,my love" she moaned.

his fingers slipping under the folds of her saree, teasing the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "You looks so sexy in saree ,jaan"

She whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled her onto his lap, spreading her legs wide over his thighs. He could feel the heat radiating from between her legs, the dampness soaking through the thin fabric of her panties.  

HE groaned, rubbing his fingers over the damp spot. She gasped, shaking her head.  

Ali didn’t need any more encouragement. He pushed the saree aside, his fingers slipping beneath her panties, finding her dripping and desperate for him. With a growl, he captured her lips again, knowing that tonight, he was going to reclaim every inch of his wife making her forget about her ex.

.Sheeza stood before him, her breath uneven, her fingers trembling as they worked to unbutton his shirt. She hesitated for a second, biting her lip, before finally peeling it off, revealing chest. 

Then, she stepped back, her hands moving to the pleats of her saree. With slow, deliberate movements, she unwrapped the maroon fabric from her body, letting it fall in a pool at her feet. Now, she stood before him in just her blouse and petticoat, her curves barely concealed. Ali’s throat went dry at the sight.  

She turned slightly, her hips swaying as she loosened the strings of her petticoat. The soft garment slid down her legs, revealing the delicious swell of her ass, round and perky, the perfect handful. His cock twitched painfully as he watched her, already rock hard, throbbing in anticipation.  

Ali pushed his pants down, kicking them off, standing fully naked and unashamed of how hard he was for her. Sheeza gasped, her gaze locking onto aching cock her lips parting slightly.  

Still wearing her blouse, she reached for the buttons with shaky fingers, undoing them one by one until the fabric gaped open, revealing her smooth, honey-colored skin. She let it slip from her shoulders, baring the tight, black bra that cupped her ample breasts, pressing them together in the most tantalizing way.  

Ali couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her body was pure perfection—wide, womanly hips built for being grabbed, thick, toned thighs that would feel heavenly wrapped around his waist, and a narrow, sinfully sexy waist that accentuated the tempting curve of her hourglass figure. Her breasts, round and firm, strained against the confines of her bra, her hardened nipples faintly visible through the fabric.  

His fingers twitched with the urge to rip that last piece of clothing away.  

"Fuck, Sheeza," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You look so damn hot."  

She flushed, her gaze dipping shyly even as her body betrayed her, shifting toward him with unspoken need.  

"You’re so perfect," he murmured, stepping closer, his hands sliding over her bare waist, feeling the heat of her skin under his touch. "Every inch of you."  

His fingers trailed lower, gripping her hips firmly, pulling her against him so she could feel just how hard he was for her.  

She let out a soft, breathy moan as he pressed against her, their bodies barely separated by the last remaining scrap of clothing.  

"Ali…" she whispered, her voice laced with desire.  

Ali smirked, his hands slipping lower. "I think it's time we get rid of these, don’t you?" He tugged at the waistband of her panties, watching as she shivered under his touch.  



She stopped him, placing a delicate hand on his chest, her breath warm against his lips.  

"Jaan, tonight... let me make love to you."  

Ali swallowed hard. His wife rarely took charge like this. Seeing her in nothing but her lacy bra and tight little panty—her wide hips curving deliciously, her full thighs teasing just a hint of softness, that smooth waist leading up to her sizeable, perky breasts—was enough to make him throb painfully.   

Her soft fingers found his cock, small but achingly stiff, twitching in her grip. She ran her palm slowly up the length, her touch featherlight yet deliberate. Ali gasped, his body tensing. Sheeza’s dark, kohl-rimmed eyes were locked onto him, full of something he rarely saw—hunger.  

"You like when I touch you like this, don’t you?" she whispered, her voice sultry.  

Ali could only nod, his breath hitching as she wrapped her fingers fully around him. She began to stroke, her motions slow, teasing, like she was savoring the feel of him. Her nails scbangd lightly against his sensitive skin, sending shivers up his spine.  

"God, you’re so hard already," she murmured, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. Her warm breath tickled his ear as she whispered, "I want to please my husband tonight."  

Her words sent a jolt through him. H
e’d always wanted her to open up like this—to take control, to show her passion freely. And now, as she knelt before him, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around his pulsing length, Ali felt utterly at her mercy.  

Then, she did the unexpected.  

She brought her soft, warm lips to his swollen tip and kissed it. A shudder ran through his body. Ali barely had time to process the sensation before she parted her lips and took him fully into her mouth.  

A strangled moan escaped his throat.  

Sheeza was on her knees, her lips stretched around his throbbing cock. He felt the wet heat of her tongue swirling around his sensitive head, her soft lips sealing around his shaft. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming.  

Wet, lewd sounds filled the room as she worked him in deeper. Her head bobbed slowly, teasingly, her warm breath hot against his skin. Ali looked down, watching as her face disappeared between his thighs, her dark hair cascading around her like a curtain.  

"Sheeza…" He groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair.  

She hummed in response, sending vibrations straight through his length. Her tongue flicked against the underside, tracing every ridge and vein. She was taking her time, savoring him, her soft hands gripping his thighs for support as she sucked him deeper.  


She flickered her tongue over his sensitive tip, teasing him with slow, deliberate strokes. Ali’s breath hitched, his thighs tensed—he was too close, too overwhelmed.  

"Sheeza… stop, I—" His words broke into a strangled groan.  

But she didn’t stop.  

Her warm, wet mouth wrapped tighter around him, her tongue swirling, sucking him with sinful expertise. The lewd slurping sounds, the sight of her lips stretched around his cock, the way her eyes met his—it was too much.  

His body stiffened. A sharp, shuddering gasp escaped him as he came, spurting into her mouth.  

Sheeza pulled back instantly, letting his release spill onto her tongue before she spat it out onto the floor, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.  

Ali watched, breathless, his heart pounding. His modest, demure wife had just taken him in her mouth—and now she sat before him, panting, her lips swollen and glistening.  

Hi
s cock twitched at the sight.

[Twilight123]

Nice update

[a2011]

great update