Adultery A SOUTH INDIAN WIFE'S -Unspoken Flames

[Saikarthik]

Nice updates

[Projectmp]

Superb update. The choice of words for describing is amazing.
Friendly suggestion- You can include now Vinitha seducing Angith in the room.
-At a later stage you can include then lying to their families that tour got extended. But in reality they both went to some other destination

[thirddemodreamer]

Past six in the evening, Vanitha and Angith arrived at the hotel’s lawn for dinner. The lawn stretched out as a vast, verdant garden, its edges softly defined by a low wooden fence. Dewdrops glistened on the grass, dampened by the cool breeze that followed the sunset. At the center stood a large round wooden table, dbangd with a white cloth and adorned with an array of artfully arranged dishes. Small glass jars with flickering candles circled the table, their tiny flames casting golden shadows over the food. In one corner, a small stage hosted a middle-aged musician playing a sitar—his fingers gliding over the strings, releasing a soft, deep melody that drifted through the air, lending the scene an enchanting calm.

Tiny yellow lights hung from the tree branches, illuminating the lawn like a cluster of stars, their glow reflecting faintly off the grass blades. Nearby, a small fountain sprayed water gently, its trickling sound blending with the music to create a natural harmony. The breeze carried the fresh scent of grass, tinged with a hint of earth and the delicate fragrance of nearby rose bushes. Vanitha and Angith chose a small wooden table and sat down. On it, a single red rose rested in a glass vase, its petals shimmering softly in the candlelight. Four wooden chairs with cushy yellow pads surrounded the table, offering a cozy comfort.
Vanitha wore a light green churidar, its top dbanging gently over her shoulders and subtly revealing her hips. Her dupatta veiled her chest, swaying lightly in the breeze, giving her an elegant grace. Her hair curled over her shoulders, brushing her neck and adding a youthful glow to her face. Angith was in a white shirt and black pants, the top button undone to expose a glimpse of his chest. Though faint fatigue shadowed his face, his eyes sparkled with curiosity and a tender smile for Vanitha. They grabbed plates and headed to the buffet. There, steaming mutton biryani, studded with fried cashews and raisins, wafted a rich pilaf aroma. Masala dosas were stacked on a large platter, served with sambar and coconut chutney. Paneer tikka, grilled in red masala and garnished with green chilies, sat vibrant. Chicken gravy simmered in a copper pot, its coconut milk topping lending a creamy hue. Fish fry, spiced and crisped with lemon slices, exuded a seaside scent. Salads—cucumber, tomato, carrot—gleamed with fresh mayonnaise. For dessert, rasmalai floated in a small bowl’s saffron glow, while gulab jamuns soaked in syrup glistened invitingly.
Vanitha took a small spoonful of biryani, some paneer tikka, a masala dosa, and a tiny bowl of rasmalai. Angith opted for chicken gravy, fish fry, a dosa piece, some salad, and a gulab jamun. Back at the table, they began eating slowly. "Today was so much fun, wasn’t it?" Angith asked, savoring his first bite of chicken gravy, his voice soft with enthusiasm, a smile curling his lips. Vanitha broke off a piece of dosa, dipped it in chutney, chewed thoughtfully, and replied with a smile, "Mm, yes. It’s been ages since I had a day like this. This place, this vibe—everything’s so perfect." Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight, her face radiating quiet joy.
Their conversation deepened. "As a kid, I loved going to parks, laughing and playing with friends. But now, with work and responsibilities, everything’s changed," Angith said, his eyes mixing nostalgia with a faint smile. Vanitha looked at him. "Same for me. Taking the kids somewhere and seeing their happy faces—that’s my biggest joy. But today… it feels like a day just for me," she said softly, her voice tinged with hesitation and gratitude. Angith reached across the table, brushing her right hand gently. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she met his gaze with a small smile, accepting his touch. His fingers pressed hers lightly. "Vanitha, I felt drawn to you the first time I saw you. Talking with you, being with you like this—it all gives me a new feeling. But there’s guilt in it too," he admitted, his voice slow and hesitant, his eyes searching hers with a blend of confusion and honesty.
She met his gaze directly, silent for a moment. Her breath rose steadily, her eyes betraying the swirl of thoughts within. Then, "I’m drawn to you too, Angith. Being with you feels freeing, joyful. But my mind keeps asking if it’s right or wrong," she replied in a low voice, laced with uncertainty. Their hands tightened, holding each other under the candlelight. The sitar’s melody wrapped around them, mingling with the fountain’s murmur, forging a tender, profound bond. They finished eating, set their plates aside, and sipped orange juice from small glasses. Vanitha adjusted her dupatta. "This place is so peaceful, so beautiful," she said, her eyes scanning the lawn. Angith smiled at her. "Yeah, and being here with you makes it even more beautiful," he teased gently. They exchanged smiles, rose slowly, and began walking toward their room, a new closeness blossoming, pulling them deeper into their journey.
 
 
 
 
 
 
As they entered the room, Angith gently closed the door, locked it, and turned Vanitha toward him. The room’s dim light cast a warm yellow glow across the walls, enveloping them in an intimate cocoon. A soft breeze slipped through the window, carrying the cool scent of the lawn inside. The white bedsheet lay crumpled on the mattress, bearing traces of the previous night—wrinkled fabric and indented pillows. In one corner, a small table held a glass jug of water and two glasses. A modest painting of ocean waves touching a mountain hung on the wall, lending the room a quiet serenity. Angith stepped closer, his hands softly grasping her shoulders, and kissed her lips. His touch was gentle at first, her body trembling slightly as she responded. Their kiss deepened, pulling them toward the bed.
He eased her onto the mattress, leaning over her. His fingers lifted her churidar top, sliding it over her shoulders to reveal her black bra. Her skin gleamed in the faint light, her chest rising and falling as her breathing quickened. His hands tugged her pants down, exposing her maroon panties. Vanitha glanced at him with a shy smile, her hands pressing against his chest, pulling at his shirt to draw him closer. Her fingers unbuttoned his shirt one by one, baring his chest, and she ran her hands over his warm skin. Fine hairs brushed her fingertips, sending a shiver through her. She slid his pants and briefs off, leaving him naked, and stifled a small smile as she glimpsed his cock.
Angith lay over her, kissing her neck softly, his lips trailing to her shoulders. His breath warmed her skin, making her tremble. His hands unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts—rosy and softly glistening in the dim light. His lips found them, his tongue teasing her nipples with slow, deliberate strokes. She gripped his head, pressing him to her chest with a soft "Mm…" moan. His teeth grazed her nipples gently, sparking a jolt through her body like electricity, and she gasped, "Angith…" He slid lower, kissing her navel, his tongue dipping inside and circling slowly. Her hips lifted as his tongue explored, savoring her.
His face moved between her thighs. His fingers peeled her panties down, baring her pussy. Her thighs glistened with a faint wetness, and as his breath brushed her, she shivered, parting her legs slightly. His lips touched her gently, his tongue delving in with deep, probing licks. Her hips rose as his tongue worked her, slow and intense, and she clutched his head tightly, moaning, "Angith… ah…" His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer, his tongue plunging deeper. Her moans filled the room, her body racing toward a peak. As he fully tasted her, she cried out, "Angith!" her body shuddering as she climaxed. Her breath raced, her frame slackening as she collapsed against him. He rose slowly, smiling tenderly, and kissed her cheek.
Vanitha lay on him for a moment, feeling his breath, then sat up. She guided him onto the bed and straddled him. Her hands roamed his chest, pressing his skin, feeling his cock beneath her. Her eyes met his with a shy smile, and she shifted her hips, guiding him into her pussy. His cock brushed her, her body quivering in response. She moved slowly, deeply, his hands gripping her hips, syncing with her rhythm. Her breasts grazed his chest as his lips captured hers in a fierce, deep kiss. Their tongues tangled, the kiss growing wilder. Her hips took him fully, his breath quickening as he moaned, "Vanitha…" She leaned into him, kissing his neck, nipping his chest softly, her hands tracing his skin.
His hands cupped her breasts, kneading them gently, twisting her nipples. She moaned, "Mm… Angith…" quickening her hips, feeling him deeper. Their bodies moved in unison, her moans echoing through the room. His hips thrust up to meet her, merging completely, driving her toward another peak. She cried, "Angith… ah…" her body trembling as she climaxed again. As she slumped onto him, he held her tight, moving his hips slowly, chasing his own release. "Vanitha!" he groaned, his body tensing as he came, joining her in ecstasy. Their breaths raced, their bodies clinging together.
His hands stroked her back, pressing along her spine, pulling her to his chest. Her face nestled there, feeling his heartbeat, and she kissed his neck softly. His fingers ran through her hair, caressing her head. Their body heat wrapped around them, binding them in a profound embrace. The room’s faint light bathed them, the breeze from the window cooling their skin. They held each other tightly, lying together on the bed, drifting into sleep. Their breaths steadied, their bodies entwined, the night deepening their bond. In the room’s stillness, only their soft breathing echoed, lulling them into a deep slumber.
 

[thirddemodreamer]

Morning light pierced the room’s white curtains, filling it with a soft golden glow. Sunrays spilled onto the bed, making the cotton bedspread shimmer faintly. Vanitha opened her eyes slowly—she lay on her back, a sweet exhaustion coursing through her, the traces of last night’s closeness with Angith etched into her skin and mind. Her breath was slow and deep, her chest rising and falling gently. She turned her head slightly; Angith lay on his side beside her, his right hand tracing her stomach’s soft skin, sliding up to press her breasts tenderly, then drifting down to circle her navel. His fingers brushed her like a feather, sparking a faint shiver that spread through her body like a warm wave.

A serene smile played on Angith’s face—his dark hair tousled, curling over his forehead, his arched brows framing his closed eyes with quiet beauty. His breathing was steady and deep, his chest lifting and falling, tiny sweat beads glinting on his skin. Vanitha watched him for a moment—his calm presence gave her a sense of safety, yet a flicker of confusion stirred within her. Being with him makes me happy, but is it right? her mind whispered. But as his hand grazed her breasts again, her body forgot those thoughts, surrendering to his touch.
Sensing her gaze, Angith opened his eyes and met hers. His brown eyes softened, a gentle smile spreading across his lips—wordless affection and desire in one. Vanitha smiled back, her expression mingling shyness with a tender appreciation. As his face neared to kiss her, she murmured with a playful blush, "One sec, Angith," her voice soft and sweet, nudging his hand away. She rose from the bed, her naked body moving without hesitation toward the bathroom—her hips swayed, the curves of her waist dancing enticingly in his view. Angith watched, a faint, captivated smile on his lips—her form beckoning him.
In the bathroom, Vanitha used the toilet first—the glossy white tiles, pristine glass counter, and faint floral scent refreshing the space. She washed her hands, grabbed her toothbrush, squeezed toothpaste, and began brushing slowly. The minty flavor filled her mouth, invigorating her. As she brushed, the door creaked open, and Angith stepped in—naked, toothbrush in hand, grabbing the toothpaste to join her. They caught each other’s eyes in the mirror, sharing a mischievous grin—a natural, playful closeness evident between them. He brushed, spitting with a small noise, and asked, "Sleep well?" She laughed, "Mm, you?" finishing and setting her brush aside.
They finished brushing and drew closer. Angith pulled her gently into his arms, her bare body pressing against his chest—her breasts grazing him as their skin met. His face neared hers, kissing her lips softly at first, then deeper. Vanitha kissed back, her hands wrapping around his back, tracing his skin—faint sweat dampening her fingers. Their kiss intensified, forging a heated bond—their bodies attuned, sinking into a gentle haze.
They left the bathroom and returned to the bed. The room held a mild chill, the AC’s faint hum surrounding them. Angith laid her on the mattress, leaning over her, kissing her neck and sliding downward. His lips found her breasts, teasing her nipples with soft licks, drawing a quiet moan from her. Vanitha gripped his head, whispering, "Angith…" His hands parted her thighs, his face moving to her pussy, his tongue stirring her gently—probing her softness, pulling her into a warm trance. She clutched his head tighter, lifting her hips, moaning, "Mm… Angith…" fully feeling his touch. Then she pulled him up, guiding his cock to her pussy, their bodies moving in sync—his hips melding with hers in a slow rhythm. They kissed deeply, holding each other close, building to a shared climax—their bodies shuddered, breaths racing, then calming. They exchanged a soft smile, a deep understanding blooming between them.
After a while, they rose and showered together—hot water relaxing their bodies, refreshing them. Vanitha slipped into a red churidar—it hugged her softly, adding a glow to her skin. She tied her hair in a small bun, spritzing a light perfume. Angith wore a blue shirt and black pants, his face showing faint fatigue mixed with eagerness. They grabbed their bags and left for a business meeting. Outside the hotel, they entered separate cars—Vanitha in a white sedan, Angith in a black SUV. Through their windows, they shared a secretive smile before driving off in different directions.
 
 
 
 
 
 
The business meeting unfolded in a grand conference room—polished wooden tables, large LED screens, and the company’s logos etched into the walls. A faint coffee aroma mingled with the scent of fresh paper, creating a professional atmosphere. Vanitha sat in a corner, typing notes on her laptop—her fingers danced slowly over the keys, but her mind drifted to Angith. Though the trainer’s voice buzzed in the background and her eyes fixed on the screen, her thoughts replayed his smile, his touch, his breath. What’s he doing right now? she wondered, a subtle heat spreading through her body.
Mid-session, her phone vibrated on the table—"Vinith" flashed on the screen. Her heart skipped, guilt and curiosity swirling within her. She picked it up, saying softly, "Hello, Vinith?" "Vanitha, sorry, I couldn’t call yesterday. I was in a no-signal area—just got coverage now," he replied, his voice warm and natural. A gentle breeze and faint bird chirps hummed in his background. "It’s fine, Vinith. How are you? How’s work?" she responded, and they chatted briefly about family, work, and the day. "The kids are happy at their aunt’s—don’t worry," he reassured her. But mid-conversation, Angith’s memory intruded—his hands roaming her body, his lips kissing her—guilt gnawed at her, yet the thrill of seeing him again pulsed through her.
Shortly after the session ended, her phone rang again—this time her kids, calling from their aunt’s number. "Amma!" their excited voices chimed together. "We’re having so much fun at Uncle’s! He got us a new toy—a remote-control car!" they giggled. Vanitha talked with them a bit, saying lovingly, "Okay, play well and study. Amma will be back soon," before hanging up. Their joyful voices comforted her—knowing her family was safe and happy eased her mind. Yet, in a corner of her thoughts, the anticipation of seeing Angith, tinged with shyness, stirred a quiet tension. She closed her laptop, grabbed her bag, and walked to her car—her heart thudding softly, a faint excitement coursing through her.

[Saikarthik]

Nice updates

[thirddemodreamer]

When her car reached the hotel entrance, the evening’s soft light bathed the facade in a golden sheen. A cool breeze slipped through the window, brushing her face. She took a deep breath, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped out. Her feet pressed into the hotel’s smooth stone tiles, a small smile blooming on her lips as she thought of meeting Angith. She first stopped at the restroom near reception—gleaming yellow tiles, a large mirror, and a faint lavender scent greeted her. She washed her face with cool water, tied her hair into a neat bun, and pulled a light rose perfume from her bag, spritzing her neck and wrists. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she flashed a small smile and headed to the room—her heart racing, her palms faintly sweaty.

Reaching the door, she knocked three times with a brief pause—"Tap… tap… tap." Hurried footsteps sounded inside, and the door swung open. Angith’s face lit up with a broad, eager smile—his eyes glinting with longing and warmth. "Vanitha!" he said softly, pulling her in, shutting and locking the door, then wrapping her in a tight embrace. His arms circled her back, pressing her body to his chest—his shirt’s subtle scent enveloping her. "I missed you so much, Vanitha. A day without seeing you felt unbearable," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. She looked into his eyes, replying softly, "Me too, Angith," her hands tracing his back, holding him close—their bodies melding, a heated bond igniting.
He led her to the bed, gently lifting her red churidar top to reveal her black bra. His fingers slid her pants down, leaving her in maroon panties. He admired her for a moment, then laid her on the mattress, leaning over her. His lips kissed her neck, trailing downward. Unhooking her bra, he bared her rosy breasts, tasting them softly, coaxing a faint moan from her. His hands parted her thighs, his face moving to her pussy, teasing her gently. Vanitha gripped his head, moaning, "Angith… ah…" fully surrendering to his touch. She pulled him up, guiding his cock to her pussy, their bodies syncing in rhythm—kissing deeply, clutching each other, they reached a shared climax. Their breaths raced, then steadied, and they shared a tender smile.
She stepped to the bathroom, washing her face and fixing her hair. Returning, Vanitha wore a light white night robe—its soft fabric dbangd her skin, hinting at her curves. Her cheeks glowed naturally from the cool water, her hair tied in a small bun with stray strands curling at her neck, adding a casual allure. The rose perfume on her neck and wrists wafted through the room, creating a seductive ambiance. As her feet sank into the soft carpet, her mind replayed their reunion—her heart thumped with a quiet longing to feel him again.
 
 
 
 
As she reached the center of the room, Angith stood near the door—clad in a grey night robe, its front slightly open, revealing the firm top of his chest. He held a small food cart, having just received it from a staff member before shutting and locking the door. The cart bore steaming soy sauce noodles, chicken Manchurian, soft rotis, paneer butter masala, and a small bottle of mango juice—their aromas filled the room, offering a warm, comforting vibe. Turning from the door, Angith flashed her a wide smile—his eyes glinting with eagerness and a longing to feel her again. "I wanted to spend more time with you, Vanitha. Before this day ends, I need to feel you more," he said slowly, a playful edge in his deep voice.
Vanitha stepped closer, replying in a soft, sweet tone, "Good idea, Angith"—a shy smile curling her lips. As she neared, he gently pulled her with his hands, guiding her to the bed. The room’s dim light bathed the bed in a warm glow—the white bedsheet crumpled, pillows askew, marked by earlier moments. He sat her on the edge, kneeling before her, and parted the edges of her night robe—her body bared to his gaze, her breasts a tantalizing sight, her thighs gleaming in the faint light. His hands caressed her hips, sliding the robe off completely, leaving her naked—her skin prickling in the room’s mild chill.
He eased her onto her back, the bedsheet’s softness warming her, offering comfort. Tossing his own robe aside, he stood bare—his solid frame catching her eye, his chest faintly slick with sweat, his cock drawing her gaze and sparking a shy flush. He leaned over her, hands gripping her shoulders softly, lips kissing her neck—his breath heating her skin. His kisses trailed down to her breasts, his tongue teasing her nipples, tasting them gently, coaxing a soft moan. Vanitha clutched his head, murmuring, "Angith…" in a low, deep voice—her fingers threading through his hair, pressing him to her chest.
His kisses moved to her stomach—his lips circling her navel, his tongue dipping inside, sending a deep shiver through her. His hands parted her thighs, his face sliding to her pussy—his breath warming her, stirring heat. His lips brushed her gently, his tongue delving in with slow, deep strokes—savoring her softness in a steady rhythm. Vanitha lifted her hips, gripping his head tightly, moaning, "Angith… ah…"—heat flooding her body, her sounds filling the room. His hands pressed her thighs, pulling her closer—his tongue urging her on, her body racing toward a peak.

[thirddemodreamer]

He rose, kissing her lips again—their kiss deepening, his tongue meeting hers in a tender dance. His hands kneaded her breasts, fingers twisting her nipples softly—her body quivered, a faint "Mm…" escaping her. He pressed himself fully over her, his cock grazing her pussy—a jolt rippling through her as he touched her. He entered slowly, her hips shifting to meet him, their bodies syncing—his thrusts melding with her in a gentle, deep rhythm. Vanitha gripped his chest, her legs wrapping around his waist—her thighs brushing his skin, creating a heated friction.

Their bodies fully felt each other—his chest pressing her breasts, their skin melding, forging a warm bond. His kisses claimed her neck again, teeth grazing her skin, blending faint pain with pleasure. His movements intensified—his hips plunging deeper, heat surging through her as she moaned, "Angith… ah…" His hands squeezed her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples, driving her to climax—her body shuddered, crying "Angith!" as she collapsed against him. His breath quickened, arms tightening around her, thrusts hastening—murmuring "Vanitha…" in a soft groan, he shuddered, joining her in release.
Their breaths raced, then steadied—a sweet exhaustion settling in. Angith kissed her forehead tenderly, pulling her to his chest—his heartbeat thrummed in her ears, offering safety. Vanitha buried her face in his chest, inhaling his faint sweat—her hands stroking his back, holding him close. They shared a gentle smile, a deep understanding blooming. The room’s soft light enveloped them, their bodies glowing warmly—they lay there, savoring the moment.
After a while, they rose slowly, slipping back into their robes—Vanitha adjusted hers, glancing at Angith with a playful smirk. "Is that enough, or do you want more?" she teased in a soft voice. He laughed, "I could stay with you a bit longer," pulling her by the hand and rolling the food cart near the sofa. They sat, sharing the meal—their closeness lingering, drawing them toward the next moment.
 
 
 
 
 
 
Vanitha and Angith sat side by side on the sofa, their night robes softly dbanging their bodies—Vanitha’s white robe lent her skin a faint glow, hinting at her curves, while Angith’s grey robe clung to his solid frame, parting slightly to reveal the top of his chest. The sofa’s cushioned fabric offered warm comfort, its muted brown hue catching the room’s light with a subtle sheen. In front of them, an old Tamil song—"Kaadhal Endraal Ennavo"—played softly on the TV, its sweet melody filling the room, pulling them into a haze of nostalgia. The food cart stood nearby, the scent of soy sauce noodles and the spicy tang of chicken Manchurian lingering, gently sating their hunger. Their plates were half-empty, a small glass of mango juice passed between them—its sweetness still lingering on their tongues.
Their conversation flowed slowly—Vanitha shared memories of singing with her mother as a child, her voice blending faint longing with laughter. Angith looked at her, saying, "I love this song too. But watching it with you makes it even more special," his eyes shimmering with a soft smile. They laughed together, a natural closeness spreading between them. His right hand brushed her left shoulder—his fingers grazed the thin fabric of her robe, feeling her skin beneath. His hand slid lower, toward her waist—slipping past the robe’s gap, tracing a small circle on her soft flesh. A shiver rippled through her—her breath deepened, her chest rising and falling.
Vanitha glanced at him—his eyes held desire and a tender admiration. A mischievous smile curled her lips—her body responded, urging her closer. His hand grew bolder, moving to her breasts—fingers parting her robe, brushing them softly, pressing gently. His thumb teased her nipple, sending a warm wave through her—she let out a faint "Mm…" pressing his hand to her chest. Her eyes fluttered shut then opened, shyly meeting his—a thought flickered, How does he make me feel this way?—but her body sank into the sensation.
Angith leaned in, his left hand sliding to her back, pulling her close—their bodies pressed together on the sofa, robes slipping, baring skin. His face neared hers, lips brushing hers softly—his breath warmed her face, igniting heat. Her lips answered, their kiss deepening—his tongue parted hers, meeting in a slow dance. Her hands roamed his chest, tugging his robe fully open, feeling his firm skin—faint sweat dampened her fingers, stirring a quiet daze.
He stripped her robe off, leaving her naked—her breasts gleamed in the dim light, captivating him. His right hand kneaded them softly, lips kissing her neck, trailing down—his tongue grazed her breasts, tasting her nipples, sending a quiver through her. Vanitha tilted her head back, moaning, "Angith…" in a soft voice—her hands gripped his head, fingers threading his hair, pressing him to her. His kisses slid to her stomach, tongue circling her navel, sparking a deep shiver.
He stood, shedding his robe completely—his solid body a feast for her eyes, his cock catching her gaze, flushing her with shyness. He approached again, laying her back on the sofa—its soft fabric warmed her, offering comfort. Leaning over her, he parted her thighs, his cock brushing her pussy—a jolt shot through her at the touch. He entered slowly, her hips shifting to meet him, their bodies syncing—his thrusts melding with her in a gentle rhythm.
Vanitha clutched his chest, legs wrapping around his waist—her thighs grazed his skin, creating heated friction. His kisses claimed her lips again, their breaths mingling—his warming her face, hers brushing his neck, pulling them into a deep haze. His movements intensified—his hips plunging deeper, heat flooding her as she moaned, "Angith… ah…" His hands squeezed her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples, driving her toward a peak. Her hands gripped his back, nails digging faintly—her moans filled the room, blending with the TV’s soft tune.
He held her tighter, thrusts quickening—his breath raced, a soft "Vanitha…" escaping him. Their bodies moved in heated harmony, reaching climax—hers shuddered, crying "Angith!" as she collapsed against him. His trembled too, arms wrapping her close, leaning into her—their breaths sped, then steadied. They shared a tender smile, a sweet exhaustion settling in. He kissed her forehead softly, pulling her to his chest—they reclined on the sofa, savoring the moment.
After a while, they rose, slipping into their robes, moving to the bed—bodies entwined, they drifted into sleep. The room’s faint light wrapped them, sealing their deep closeness.

[Saikarthik]

Superb nicely going

[Projectmp]

Beautifully written

[thirddemodreamer]

Morning sunlight seeped through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the bed. Vanitha opened her eyes slowly, glancing at Angith beside her—he slept on his side, his breath steady and deep, a serene smile lingering on his face. Her gaze shifted to the wall clock—8:45. Oh no, it’s late! flashed through her mind. She sprang up, tapping his shoulder gently, "Angith, get up! We’re late!" He stirred, opening his eyes groggily, staring at her for a moment before mumbling, "Mm… okay," and rising. They stumbled out of bed and headed to the suite’s lavish bathroom—glossy white tiles, a large glass counter, and a faint lavender scent refreshing the space.
They brushed their teeth separately, then showered in hot water—the warmth relaxed their bodies, invigorating them. Vanitha dressed in a grey churidar with a black blazer, tying her hair in a neat bun and spritzing a light perfume—her look exuded professional confidence. Angith wore a white shirt and black suit, his face a mix of haste and excitement. They grabbed their bags and boarded pre-arranged vehicles downstairs—Vanitha in a white sedan, Angith in a black SUV. As the cars pulled away, they exchanged a small smile through the windows before heading in opposite directions.
In the car, Vanitha’s phone buzzed—"GM Ambrish" glowed on the screen. She answered respectfully, "Hello, sir." "Vanitha, we’ve got a big client in today’s meeting. Are you well-prepared?" Ambrish asked, a hint of tension in his voice. "Yes, sir. Everything’s ready," she replied firmly, ending the call. A blend of confidence and nerves swirled in her mind as she opened her laptop to review her notes.
The meeting unfolded in a grand conference room—polished wooden tables, large screens, and a subtle coffee aroma filling the air. Mid-session, the company’s MD, George, entered with a major buyer—a man in his fifties, imposing in a black suit, his face set with a stern smile. The room tensed, others eyeing him warily, but Vanitha greeted him with a small smile and launched into her presentation—her voice steady and clear, explaining her plans onscreen, engaging him directly. He scrutinized her, firing sharp questions—her poised responses surprised him. Finally, with a slight nod, he said, "Alright, deal’s on," sparking stunned silence. George beamed at her, pride and amazement in his eyes.
After seeing the buyer off, George offered to drive Vanitha back to the hotel in his sleek black Mercedes. Inside, plush leather seats, a faint perfume scent, and cool AC enveloped her in luxury. Steering, George praised, "Vanitha, what you did today was incredible! No one convinces him that easily. You’ve got a special talent." His voice carried genuine admiration. He asked gently, "How’s your family? Kids doing well in college?"—his tone polite and warm. "A bigger promotion than you expected is guaranteed. I’ll make sure of it," he promised, a small smile playing on his lips. At the hotel entrance, he opened the door for her, saying, "See you soon, Vanitha," before driving off with a subtle wave.
________________________________________
The Mercedes’ soft engine hum faded as George waved goodbye and departed. Vanitha stood at the hotel entrance, watching the red taillights vanish into the dusk—pride and excitement swelling within her. The evening breeze brushed her face, rustling her grey churidar’s thin fabric. She adjusted her bag, took a deep breath, and walked toward the gleaming glass doors—her heels clicking softly on the stone tiles. At reception, a staff member greeted her with a smile, "Welcome back, madam." She nodded and headed to the elevator—inside, soft white light, a faint floral scent, and background music soothed her.
Entering her room, she opened the door slowly—the dim light bathed the bed in a warm glow, creating a tranquil ambiance. She dropped her bag on the sofa, kicked off her shoes, and went to the bathroom. The glossy tiles cooled her feet—she washed her face with cold water, let her hair fall loose over her shoulders, and slipped into a soft cotton night robe. Its white fabric added a gentle sheen to her skin, subtly tracing her curves. Stretching her arms with a small yawn, she glanced at herself in the mirror—satisfaction in her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. Returning to the room, she sank onto the sofa, grabbed her phone, and called her kids.
"Amma!" their excited voices chimed together. "We won prizes at college today! I got first, Anna got second!" they giggled. Vanitha hugged a pillow to her chest, curling her legs on the sofa, "Super, my darlings! Amma will get you big prizes. Study well," she said lovingly—her voice warm with affection and pride. They chatted a bit before chirping, "Bye, Amma!" and hanging up. Smiling, she called her mother. "Amma, I’m good. Got a big deal at work today," she shared proudly, adjusting her robe’s edges. Her mother blessed her, "So happy, Vanitha. Your dad will be proud too." Their talk drifted to family—laughing over her mom’s cooking and the kids’ antics.
Then, the door creaked open, and Angith stepped in—wearing a grey shirt and black pants, his hair tousled, a day’s fatigue on his face. Seeing her in the night robe on the sofa, a spark flared in his eyes. He shut and locked the door, dropped his bag, and approached— a mischievous grin curling his lips. "Amma, one sec," Vanitha said into the phone, raising a brow at him—surprise and caution flickering on her face. Ignoring her, he sat beside her, parting her robe’s edges, tracing her shoulders softly—his fingers brushing her skin, sparking a shiver. He yanked off his shirt, tossing it aside, pulled her into his arms, and led her to the bed.
The bed’s white sheet lay crumpled—he stripped off her robe, flinging it aside, her naked body gleaming in the faint light. Shedding his pants and briefs, he leaned over her, lips kissing her neck—his breath warming her skin, igniting heat. "Yes, Amma, everything’s fine here," Vanitha said into the phone, squirming slightly under his touch—her voice trembled. His hands parted her thighs, his face moving to her pussy—his lips grazed her, his tongue delving deep. As it moved in a steady rhythm, her body quivered, "Mm… yes, Amma," she replied, a moan slipping out—her breath quickened, hips lifting. His tongue intensified, and she gasped, "Amma, I’ll call later," hanging up and tossing the phone aside. Her body shuddered, "Angith!" she cried, climaxing—breath racing, hands clutching his head, collapsing against him.
He rose, grinning mischievously—satisfaction and playfulness in his eyes. Vanitha glared at him with mock anger, "What’s this, Angith? Starting while I’m on with Amma!" She tapped his chest lightly, a smile hiding on her lips. He laughed, "Couldn’t control myself seeing you like this, Vanitha. You’re too beautiful," teasingly kissing her hand. They chuckled, dressing—Vanitha in a green churidar, tying her hair in a bun; Angith in a blue shirt and black pants, wiping his face with a cloth. "Come, let’s eat," he said. "Okay," she replied with a laugh, joining him to the hotel lawn.

[thirddemodreamer]

The lawn glowed under yellow lights strung in the trees, creating a charming ambiance—candles flickered on tables, soft sitar music hummed in the background, and a faint floral scent drifted in the air. They sat at a small wooden table, ordering biryani, chicken curry, and rasmalai—the biryani’s aroma enveloped them, stirring their appetites. They ate slowly, sharing their day. "My day went well—met some new clients," Angith said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. Vanitha smiled, "Mine was amazing!" she boasted, detailing her success and George’s promised promotion—her eyes sparkled, a wide grin spreading across her face. Angith, impressed, teased, "Wow, a promotion! That deserves a treat," brushing her hand lightly. "What do you want?" she asked. He eyed her playfully, "I’ll tell you in the room," he chuckled—mischief glinting in his eyes.

After dinner, they washed their hands and strolled back to the room—the hotel’s soft lights lit the path, floral scents lingering. At the door, Angith opened it gently, ushering Vanitha in—his eyes twinkled with mischief, his smile eager. Once inside, he locked it, turned her toward him, and asked softly, "Can I tell you now?"—his hands grazed her green churidar’s shoulders. Vanitha giggled, "Sure, go ahead," swatting his hands lightly—shyness and curiosity mingling on her face.
He stepped closer, peeling off her churidar top—her black bra emerged, softly outlining her breasts. His fingers slid her pants down, leaving her in maroon panties—her body shimmered in the dim light, quickening his breath. He shed his blue shirt, tossed his pants and briefs aside, and led her to the bed. The crumpled white bedsheet awaited—he laid her back, leaning over her, kissing her neck—his breath warmed her skin, sparking heat. His lips trailed to her breasts, unhooking her bra, tasting her rosy flesh—his tongue teased her nipples, drawing a soft moan. "Angith…" Vanitha murmured, her hands roaming his back, pressing his skin.
His kisses slid to her stomach, tongue circling her navel, sending shivers through her—his hands parted her thighs, his cock brushing her pussy. The touch jolted her—he entered slowly, her hips meeting him, their bodies syncing in a deep, steady rhythm. Her legs wrapped around his waist, thighs grazing his skin, igniting friction. His chest pressed her breasts, lips claiming hers—their breaths mingled as he groaned, "Vanitha…" intensifying his thrusts. She moaned, "Angith… ah…" her body surging toward climax—his hands squeezed her breasts, her body shuddered, crying "Angith!" as she peaked. His breath raced, arms tightening, reaching his own release—their bodies slumped, breaths calming.
They lay on the mattress—Vanitha pulled the sheet over herself, her chest rising and falling, turning on the TV to a Tamil serial—a family scene flickering. One hand roamed Angith’s bare chest—fingers tracing his skin, brushing his chest hair, feeling his muscles; his faint sweat warmed her touch. Angith dbangd a thin blanket over his waist, smiling faintly—but guilt crept into their minds.
"Angith, isn’t this wrong?" Vanitha asked softly, her voice trembling, eyes on the TV though her mind churned. Her fingers paused on his chest, breath catching. He fell silent, then took her hand, "Yes, Vanitha. Thinking about it, it weighs on me. You have a family—I have my life," he admitted hesitantly, eyes dropping to the bed. "But it makes us happy, doesn’t it?" she countered, a trace of justification in her confused expression—her heart craved his touch, her conscience resisted.
"Happiness that’s wrong, Vanitha," he replied quietly, regret in his tone. "If we keep going, it’ll destroy us both someday. Think of your kids—my future," he said, squeezing her hand. She paused, then nodded, "You’re right. I care for Vinith, and I can’t do this thinking of the kids," she confessed—tears welled, though she hid them, taking a deep breath. "Let this be our last, Angith," she declared firmly, resolve in her voice.
"Alright, Vanitha. No more meetings like this," he agreed, fatigue and understanding on his face. "But I can’t forget you—these days will always be special," he added softly, gazing at her deeply. "Me too, Angith," she replied, offering a small smile—a profound understanding bloomed, tinged with parting.
"So, what’s your treat?" she teased, a playful lilt returning, lightening her mood. He hesitated, biting his lip, "I want a… blowjob," he murmured shyly, eyes hopeful. Stunned, she asked, "What did you say?"—confusion and embarrassment flickering, eyes wide. "You said you’d treat me," he grinned, voice tentative. She pondered, "I’ve hardly done that, Angith. It feels odd," she said softly—her lips quivered, a quiet struggle within.
"It’s fine, Vanitha. If it’s uncomfortable, forget it," he soothed, stroking her hand—understanding in his expression. But she looked at him, "No, I’ll do it for you. As our last," she agreed, sliding the sheet aside, leaning toward him. Her lips brushed his cock—her breath warmed his skin, shyly stirring her. She explored him gently, touching softly, pleasing him—he moaned, "Vanitha…" peaking, his body trembling then stilling. A satisfied smile spread, "You’re amazing, Vanitha," he whispered, eyes tender.
She pulled the sheet back, "That’s it, Angith," she said with a faint laugh—relief in her voice. He tucked the blanket around his waist, "Yeah, that’s it," he nodded, smiling softly. This time, they didn’t hold each other—a small gap emerged, the mattress’s width separating them. The dim light bathed them, the TV’s hum in the background—they drifted to sleep, a subtle divide forming, yet peace settling in their minds.

---

[AB-the Unicorn]

Horniest and romantic story on recent times.
Thank you for the story 
Expecting more updates from this story

[Projectmp]

Horniest and romantic story on recent times.
Thank you for the story 
Expecting more updates from this story

+1

[Naga240]

Story is so nice sofar

[Saikarthik]

Good update loved it

[thirddemodreamer]

Morning sunlight pierced the curtains, spilling gold over the bed—their final day. They rose at 7:00, exchanging a silent nod, the gap lingering. In the suite’s bathroom, they refreshed—cool tiles underfoot, hot water easing them into a new start. Vanitha wore a grey churidar with a black blazer, hair in a neat bun—professional resolve on her face. Angith donned a white shirt and black suit, a mix of nerves and excitement in his eyes. They grabbed their bags, boarded separate cars for meetings—sharing a faint smile through the windows before diverging.

The meeting filled a grand conference room—polished tables, screens, coffee scent. Vanitha presented clearly, answering firmly; Angith handled clients confidently, sealing deals. Afterward, they exchanged a professional smile—nothing more. Vanitha returned to the hotel first, shutting the door, breathing deeply. She washed her face, slipping into a soft green saree—its fabric hugged her, revealing her waist, hair loose with a jasmine flower.
Packing, she folded clothes, tucked in her laptop, and placed a gift box for the kids on top. Angith returned—fatigue on his face, but his eyes lit up seeing her in the saree. "You look great, Vanitha," he said softly, refreshing and changing into a blue shirt and black jeans. He packed—folding shirts, stowing a notebook. Vanitha chatted with her kids on the phone—"Amma, when are you coming? We miss you!" they asked. She smiled, "Tonight, I’ve got gifts for my darlings," she replied fondly. Lounging on the sofa, her saree slipped, baring her waist and navel—Angith noticed, gazing briefly, a faint smile curling his lips.
Sensing his stare, phone in hand, she shot him a playful smirk, "Enough, Angith? Stop it!"—a teasing warning, mischief and restraint in her eyes. He laughed, "Okay, okay," raising his hands, resuming packing—their understanding held. They finished, glancing at the room—the bed, sofa, TV stirring memories. "Shall we go?" she asked. He paused, "One sec, Vanitha," stepping closer, voice gentle, "One last kiss? Please?"—longing and hesitation in his eyes.
She wavered, "Angith, is this right?"—her mind wrestled, but seeing his earnest plea, she relented, "Okay, the last." He drew her close, hands on her waist—their lips met in a deep French kiss. His tongue parted hers, dancing slowly—his breath warmed her face, hers brushed his neck, igniting heat. Her hands grazed his chest, clutching his shirt—their bodies pressed, the kiss a final memory. The room’s phone rang—"Madam, your vehicle’s here," reception said. They parted slowly, sharing a faint smile—their breaths steadied.
They slung their bags over their shoulders, left for the airport—seated apart on the plane, Vanitha by the window, Angith in a middle row. As it took off, they closed their eyes, lost in thought—Vanitha recalling their first meeting, sofa moments, his kisses, guilt whispering, Why did I do this? as she pictured her kids, dozing with regret. Angith remembered her in the saree, her touch, their last kiss—A mistake, but unforgettable, he mused, guilt mingling with confusion, resting against his seat. The plane carried them back to their lives—heavy hearts sinking into sleep.
At the airport, they grabbed their luggage, parted in separate cars—Vanitha in a white sedan toward home, gazing out, smiling faintly at seeing her kids, though her heart weighed heavy. Angith in a black SUV to his place, leaning back, muttering, "It’s over,"—mixed emotions swirling. As the cars diverged, a permanent divide settled—their hearts thudded with weight, returning to their lives, leaving those days as a fleeting dream.
 
 
 

[thirddemodreamer]

Vanitha Returns Home

The white sedan carrying Vanitha halted in front of her house, and as the door opened, her children’s excited cries—"Amma!"—filled her ears. She slid her bag off her shoulder and stepped out—her green saree’s folds slightly askew, yet a small smile bloomed on her face. Her kids—a boy and a girl—rushed to her, wrapping her in tight hugs, their tiny hands tugging at her saree. Her husband, Vinith, stood at the doorstep in a casual blue shirt, greeting her with a wide grin. "You’re back, Vani? We missed you so much," he said softly, genuine joy in his voice. Vanitha smiled back, "I missed you all too," she replied—but her heart pulsed with a heavy ache.
They stepped inside and settled on the sofa—family photos hung on the walls, soft yellow light glowed, and the aroma of mint chutney wafted from the kitchen, offering familiar comfort. She opened her bag, pulling out gifts for the kids—a red remote-control car for the boy, a shiny doll set for the girl. "Amma, super!" they squealed, tearing into the packages and playing eagerly. Vinith looked at her, "Great picks, Vani," he praised, pride in his eyes. She laughed, "I knew they’d love them,"—but a faint guilt stirred, memories of Angith creeping in.
That night, after the kids slept, Vanitha and Vinith lay in bed—the soft cotton sheet warmed her, yet her mind churned restlessly. Vinith pulled out a small box, "Vani, this is for you," he said gently, offering a platinum ring—its silver gleam sparkled, a tiny diamond embedded. Surprised, she asked, "What’s this?" her eyes lighting up. "Saw it while shopping with colleagues—thought you’d like it," he grinned, affection in his tone. She took it, slipping it on, "It’s beautiful, Vinith. Thanks," she said—joy spread, his small gesture touching her deeply. But instantly, sharp guilt pierced her—she’d planned gifts for the kids and him, yet his spontaneous act contrasted painfully with her moments with Angith.
She hugged him tightly, "You’re so good, Vinith," she murmured—tears welled, rolling down her cheek, though she hid them, burying her face in his shoulder. He rubbed her back, "What’s wrong, Vani?" he asked soothingly, but she forced a smile, "Nothing, just happy," masking her turmoil. His hand roamed her body, pressing her waist, drawing closer—his breath warmed her neck, stirring heat. But she flinched, "Vinith, I’m exhausted. The trip, meetings…" she said softly, stopping him—her voice carried fatigue, though guilt truly held her back. I need comfort for my mind, not my body, she thought silently. He smiled faintly, "Okay, rest," he said, holding her as they drifted to sleep—their breaths steadied, the night cloaking them in quiet.
Next morning, Vanitha worked in the kitchen—coffee powder’s scent, steaming milk, and cool morning air surrounded her. Stirring dosa batter, her mind wandered. The kids bounded in, "Amma, we need college stuff—pencils, notebooks!" She hesitated, "Vinith, can you take them? My head’s heavy,"—her voice weary, her heart heavier. He chuckled, "Sure, we’ll go. Finish breakfast, we’ll lunch out. You rest," he said, ushering the kids out. As the door shut, silence fell—only the faint sizzle of the dosa pan lingered.
Alone on the sofa, phone in hand, Vanitha stared at the wall—Angith’s moments replayed like a film: their first meeting, the sofa, his kisses. Why didn’t I stop? I’d never even thought this way, she questioned herself—never one to betray, yet this affair made her feel like a stranger. Her phone buzzed—a message from Angith: a photo of his son in clothes they’d picked, smiling, captioned, "Thanks, Vanitha. Sorry." She smiled faintly, He feels guilty too, she thought, a twinge of pity rising. What’s done is done. Life moves forward, she resolved—focusing on work to forget, finding a sliver of peace.
She rose, tackling chores—washing dishes, folding clothes, playing soft music to distract herself. Evening brought the kids back—"Amma, we ate burgers! Got new bags!" they chirped. She smiled, "Super, show me," sitting with them, listening to their day—her mind lightened. At bedtime, she told Vinith about the meeting—"George promised a big promotion," she said proudly. He beamed, "Wow, Vani! Amazing! That deserves a treat," he teased. Angith flickered in her mind, but she pushed it aside, "Okay," she laughed, leaning into him first.
She slipped off her saree, leaning over him—their bodies merged in deep harmony. The green saree slid onto the mattress, its soft fabric rustling, folds glinting in the dim light. She unhooked her black blouse, tossing it with the saree—her body bared, breasts cradled in a black bra, waist curving softly. Vinith murmured, "Vani, you’re so beautiful,"—his voice thick with love, hands gripping her shoulders. She smiled faintly, peeling off his blue shirt, revealing his firm chest—his skin warm, her fingers tracing it as she drew closer.
Leaning into him, her body pressed against his—her breasts met his skin, the bra’s thin fabric a slight barrier. He unhooked it, flinging it aside—her breasts freed, his hands kneaded them, fingers teasing her nipples. "Vinith…" she moaned softly, eyes closing, savoring his touch—Angith’s memory flashed, but she shoved it away, sinking into Vinith’s love. His lips kissed her neck, tongue grazing her skin, sliding down—his breath warmed her breasts, igniting heat. His lips captured her nipples, sucking gently, sending shivers through her—her hands clutched his head, fingers threading his hair, pressing him closer.
His kisses trailed to her stomach—lips circling her navel, tongue dipping in, stirring deep sensation. His hands caressed her thighs, sliding off her panties, leaving her bare—her skin prickled in the room’s faint chill. He shed his pants, tossing them aside, fully over her—his cock brushed her pussy, the touch trembling through her. "Vani…" he groaned, entering slowly—his hips moved with hers in a deep, steady rhythm, her legs wrapping his waist, thighs grazing his skin, sparking friction. Her body pulsed under him, "Vinith…" she murmured—her hands gripped his back, nails lightly scbanging.
Their bodies melded—his chest pressed her breasts, skin fusing, forging a warm bond. His lips claimed hers, tongues entwining in a tender dance—his breath heated her face, hers brushed his neck, a soft warmth enveloping them. His thrusts deepened—hips plunging, heat surging as she moaned, "Vinith… ah…" His hands squeezed her breasts, fingers twisting her nipples, driving her to climax—her body shuddered, "Vinith!" she gasped, collapsing against him, breath racing, satisfaction flooding her. He held her tight, thrusts quickening, "Vani…" he groaned, peaking—his body trembled, then stilled.
Their breaths slowed, a sweet exhaustion settling in. He kissed her forehead, "You’re always special to me, Vani," he whispered—true love in his voice. She nestled into his chest, inhaling his faint sweat—her hands stroked his back, "You too, Vinith," she murmured, a faint peace blooming. Yet guilt lingered—she tried to forget Angith, seeking solace in Vinith’s embrace. They shared a tender smile, the dim light bathing them in a warm glow. Pulling the sheet over, they held each other, drifting into sleep—hope for a new start flickered in her mind, eyes closing to his heartbeat.

[Dinesh Raveendran]

She fucked with him, but did not have a single guilt of cheating her husband. only fear is about the children.

[Saikarthik]

Nice updates

[Vishal Ramana]

Great updates