Adultery Nivetha (Nivi) - Power and Submissions of working wife (03 Oct 2025 - Chapter 100)

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 16: Day Three - The Black Back-Cut Blaze


Wednesday dawned with a vibrant energy as Nivi stepped into the office, the black kurti with its daring deep back-cut clinging to her curves like a whispered challenge. 

The fabric hugged her full breasts, accentuating their shape, while the exposed spine dipped low, teasing the smooth skin above her ass. Her leggings gripped her hips, her ass swaying with each step. 

From the front, she was sleek, professional; from behind, she was a provocation, her bare back a magnet for eyes. Her pussy ignited as she crossed the office threshold, wet from the anticipation of the gang’s stares, their cocks stirring under their desks. 

Why is my body so alive now? she wondered, her mind struggling to keep up. It’s like I’m rediscovering my own desire, unleashed by those kurtis, Raghavan’s eyes. My urges are running wild, and I’m trying to understand what I crave. 

The boutique had awakened her, each piece a spark to her newfound power, her body leading her into uncharted heat.


The office hushed, eyes snapping to her—Ashwin’s grin faltering, Dinesh’s pen dropping, Ashok’s shy stare trembling. A junior staffer by the filing cabinet paused, his gaze lingering on her exposed back before he fumbled his folders. 

The attention sent a spark through her pussy, her panties dampening fast. Why am I so turned on by their looks? My body’s craving this, taking over, she thought, grappling with the desire driving her. She adjusted her dupatta, letting it slip to tease her back, her nipples hardening under the fabric.


Mid-morning, Dinesh suggested a coffee break outside.

 “Let’s hit that new cafe across the street,” he said, smirking. 

“Nivi’s killing us with these looks—need fresh air.” The gang agreed, and they stepped into Coimbatore’s bustling streets, the air thick with the scent of filter coffee and frying vadas. 

At the cafe, a small open-air spot with wooden tables, a waiter glanced at Nivi, his eyes catching her bare back before he hurried off. Her pussy pulsed, the stranger’s look fueling her fire.

At their table, the banter turned naughty. Ashwin leaned back, grinning. “Nivi, that back-cut’s unfair—you’re not the skinny kid anymore, are you? Those curves are a knockout.” 

His eyes lingered on her spine, implying more.

Dinesh chuckled, glasses glinting. “Yeah, you were all elbows back then. Now? This kurti’s got us all messed up.” His tone teased, his gaze on her hips hinting at desire. 

Her pussy burned, their mockery sparking her heat. Why is my body reacting so much? Their words make me wet, like I’m owning my skin for the first time, she thought, her urges surging.

Ashok mumbled, face red, “It’s… stunning.” His eyes were glued to her back, and she thought, He’s imagining fucking me, his cock throbbing, helpless. Her pussy clenched, panties soaked.

Mohan slid into the seat beside her, his confident smile sharp. “Nivi, you’re rewriting the office vibe,” he said, his voice smooth, leaning close enough for his arm to brush hers.

 “This kurti’s dangerous—shows off everything.” His tone was suggestive, and her pussy ached. He’s pushing closer, wants my ass, my tits, she thought, her body driving her. During a work review later, Mohan stayed by her side, their shoulders touching as they checked spreadsheets.

 “You’re killing it, Nivi,” he said softly. “And if home’s weighing you down, I’m here—anytime.” His support felt warm, personal, his closeness igniting her core.

Back at the office, gossip swirled in the lunchroom. 

Two accountants whispered: “Nivi’s new kurtis—and always with Raghavan or Mohan. Something’s up.” The words made her nipples tighten, her pussy dripping. They’re obsessed with my curves, she thought, her body urging her on. Why am I so horny for this? It’s like my body’s awake, craving every stare. Saritha and Lakshmi waved her over, grinning. 

“Nivi, you’re unstoppable,” Saritha teased. “The boys are tripping over their own feet.” Lakshmi added, “Keep burning, girl.” Nivi sat, crossing her legs, her back exposed, her pussy wet with their support and the gossip’s thrill.

Mid-afternoon, Raghavan called her to his office, his voice calm but eyes dark, devouring her—tits, back, ass—as she strutted in, slits flashing. 

“Nivi,” he said, leaning forward, “that back-cut’s a weapon. Shows your fire.” His gaze lingered on her spine, and her pussy ignited, soaked panties sticking. 

He’s hard, picturing his hands on my back, fucking me, she thought, her body in charge. Why am I so wet from his eyes? I’m discovering my desire, and it’s too much to control.

“Like it, sir?” she teased, leaning on his desk, the kurti tight, back arching to tease her spine. He handed her a report, his fingers brushing hers, lingering.

 “You’re owning this place,” he murmured, his voice a growl. “Keep them burning.” Gossip buzzed outside—a clerk whispering, “Nivi’s with the boss again, that kurti!”—and her pussy dripped, her body thriving.

Later, Mohan caught her by the coffee machine, offering to refill her cup. “Nivi, you’re something else,” he said, his hand grazing her arm, eyes on her curves. 

“If Anand’s not seeing you, I will—work or not.” His closeness sent a gush to her pussy, her body leading. Why is my body so alive? Mohan’s touch, Raghavan’s eyes—they’re driving me wild, she thought, her urges a wildfire, ready for tomorrow’s blaze.

Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 17: Day Four - The Royal Blue Reign


Thursday morning hummed with electric anticipation as Nivi glided into the office, the royal blue kurti cinching her waist like a lover’s grip, flaring over her hips to accentuate her full breasts and round ass. 

The short sleeves bared her arms, the fabric clinging to her curves, teasing their shape with every breath. Her leggings hugged tight, her hips swaying with each step. From the front, she was polished, professional; from behind, she was a wildfire, her body a bold invitation. 

Her pussy flared as she crossed the office doors, wet from imagining the gang’s eyes, their cocks stirring. Why is my body so hungry for this? she wondered, her mind racing. I’m discovering a new me, unleashed by those kurtis, Raghavan’s gaze. 

These urges are wild, controlling me, and I’m trying to understand what I need. The shopping spree had awakened her, each piece fueling her power, her body leading her into a blaze of desire.

The office stilled, eyes snapping to her—Ashwin’s grin sharpening, Dinesh’s pen frozen, Ashok’s shy stare trembling. A junior staffer by the reception desk paused, his gaze lingering on her cinched waist before he fumbled his phone. The attention sent a spark to her pussy, her panties dampening fast. 

Why am I so turned on by their looks? My body’s alive, craving this, she thought, grappling with the desire driving her. She adjusted her dupatta, letting it slip to tease her curves, her nipples hardening under the fabric.

At the tea station, the gang swarmed, their banter crackling with naughty undertones. 

Ashwin leaned back, tossing a biscuit. “Nivi, this kurti’s a knockout—look at those curves! You were all skin and bones before, now you’re pure trouble.” His grin was bold, eyes lingering on her waist, implying more.
Dinesh smirked, glasses glinting. “Yeah, skinny Nivi’s gone. This blue’s got us all tripping.” His tone teased, his gaze on her hips hinting at desire. Her pussy sparked, their mockery fueling her heat. 

Why is my body reacting so much? Their words make me wet, like I’m owning my desire, she thought, her urges surging.

Ashok mumbled, face red, “It’s… gorgeous.” His eyes were glued to her curves, and she thought, He’s picturing fucking me, his cock hard, helpless. Her pussy clenched, panties soaked.

Mohan slid in beside her, his confident smile sharp. “Nivi, you’re redefining this place,” he said, his voice smooth, leaning close, his arm brushing hers. 

“This kurti’s dangerous—shows every curve.” His tone was suggestive, and her pussy flared. He’s pushing closer, wants my tits, my ass, she thought, her body driving her. Later, during a budget review, Mohan sat beside her, their knees touching as he pointed out a formula error. 

“You’re sharp, Nivi,” he said softly. “And if home’s tough, I’m here—work or not.” His support felt warm, his closeness electric, pulling her in.

In the lunchroom, Saritha and Lakshmi pulled her aside, their faces serious. “Nivi, watch yourself,” 

Saritha said, voice low. “You’re stunning in these kurtis, but Raghavan and Mohan—they’re too close. The office is talking, saying you’re getting cozy with the boss, maybe Mohan too.” Lakshmi nodded, eyes concerned. “You’re shining, but men like them… they notice too much. 

Be careful—they might want more than you think.” The warning sent a jolt through Nivi, her nipples tightening, her pussy dripping. They’re gossiping about me with Raghavan, Mohan, she thought, her body urging her on. Why am I so horny for this? My body’s craving their eyes, their whispers.

Two clerks nearby whispered: “Nivi’s kurtis—she’s with the boss and Mohan too much.” The gossip made her pussy ache, her body thriving. She smiled at Saritha and Lakshmi, crossing her legs, the kurti tight.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” she said, her voice calm but bold. “I’m just being me.” Their concern grounded her, but the gossip fueled her fire, her body leading her mind.

Mid-afternoon, Raghavan called her to his office, his voice steady but eyes dark, devouring her—tits, waist, ass—as she strutted in, hips swaying. “Nivi,” he said, leaning forward, “this blue’s a masterpiece. 

Hugs your curves like it was made for you.” His gaze lingered on her waist, and her pussy flared, soaked panties sticking. He’s hard, picturing his hands on my curves, fucking me, she thought, her body in charge. Why is my body so alive? I’m discovering my desire, and it’s overwhelming me.

“Like it, sir?” she teased, leaning on his desk, the kurti tight, curves outlined. He handed her a file, his fingers brushing hers, lingering longer than needed.

“You’re unstoppable, Nivi,” he murmured, his voice a growl. “This place is yours.” Gossip buzzed outside—a clerk whispering, “Nivi’s in with Raghavan again, that kurti!”—and her pussy dripped, her body thriving on the attention.

Later, Mohan caught her by the break room, offering to carry her files. 

“Nivi, you’re killing it,” he said, his hand grazing her arm, eyes on her curves. 

“Anand’s not seeing you? His loss—I’m here, work or otherwise.” 

His closeness sent a gush to her pussy, her body leading. 

Why can’t I control this? Mohan’s touch, Raghavan’s eyes—they’re driving my desire wild, she thought, her urges a blaze, ready for the next day’s fire.

Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 18: Day Five - The White Chiffon Temptation

Friday pulsed with a charged energy as Nivi prepared for the office, the white chiffon kurti dbangd over her curves like a whisper of seduction. 

The semi-transparent fabric teased shadows of her full breasts, the embroidered details barely concealing her nipples as they hardened in the morning air. 

The kurti flowed with each movement, hinting at her hips and round ass, her leggings clinging tight, amplifying her sway. This was day five, the finale of her unveiling, and Nivi intended to test everyone—the gang, Raghavan, Mohan—pushing their reactions to see how far her new fire could burn. Her pussy surged as she dressed, wet from the thrill of her plan. 

Why am I so driven to push them? she thought, her mind embracing her new truth. The shopping with Raghavan set me free—my body’s alive, claiming this desire, and I want this life over Anand’s empty one. I’m done hiding; I’m testing them all today. 

The boutique had ignited her, and she was ready to own her vibrant world.

The team was scheduled for an off-site client presentation at a textile firm across Coimbatore, the morning alive with the city’s bustle—vendors shouting for fresh bananas, the scent of roasting corn mingling with jasmine garlands. 

Nivi stepped into the client’s sleek office, the gang trailing her, their eyes widening as her chiffon caught the light. 

Ashwin’s grin froze, Dinesh’s notepad slipped, Ashok’s shy stare trembled. 

A client staffer by the reception paused, eyes tracing her sheer kurti before fumbling his files. Her pussy sparked, panties dampening fast. 

They’re hooked, and I’m testing how much they want me, she thought, her body leading, her mind set on her new identity. She let her dupatta slip, teasing her curves, nipples hardening.

In the presentation room, the gang set up, the air thick with anticipation and the hum of ceiling fans. Nivi stood to explain a budget slide, her chiffon fluttering as she moved, slits teasing her thighs. Ashwin leaned back, grinning.

 “Nivi, this kurti’s a showstopper—way past the skinny days, huh? You’re owning every inch now.” His tone was naughty, eyes lingering on her chest, implying desire.

Dinesh smirked, glasses glinting. “Yeah, you were all bones before. This chiffon’s got us all distracted.” His gaze hinted at want, sparking her pussy. I’m pushing them, and they’re breaking, she thought, her urges surging.

Ashok mumbled, face red, “It’s… perfect.” His eyes were glued to her, and she thought, He’s picturing fucking me, his cock throbbing. Her pussy clenched, panties soaked.

Mohan sat beside her, his confident smile sharp. “Nivi, you’re stealing the client’s focus,” he said, voice smooth, leaning close, his hand brushing hers as he adjusted a slide. “This look’s lethal.” 

His tone was suggestive, and her pussy flared. He’s after my curves, she thought. During a break, Mohan stayed near, helping her organize handouts, their shoulders touching. 

“You’re killing it, Nivi,” he whispered. “Anand’s not seeing you? I’m here, always.” His support felt warm, his closeness electric, pulling her deeper into her desire to test him.


As they left the client’s office, a market vendor unloading crates glanced her way, eyes on her chiffon, fueling her fire. 

Back at the office, Saritha and Lakshmi cornered her in the break room, their faces stern. “Nivi, you’re stunning, but slow down,” Saritha warned, voice low. “Raghavan and Mohan are too close—the office is buzzing, saying you’re playing with fire. That chiffon’s dangerous, and they’re eating it up.” Lakshmi nodded, worried. 

“You’re shining, but they might want more than you’re ready for. Be careful.” The warning sent a jolt through Nivi, her nipples tightening, her pussy dripping. They’re gossiping about my curves, my ties, she thought. I’m testing them, and I want this life, not Anand’s dull one.


Two accountants whispered nearby: “Nivi’s chiffon—she’s with Raghavan and Mohan too much.” Her pussy surged, thriving on the gossip. I’m claiming this, she thought, her mentality set.

Mid-afternoon, Raghavan called her to his office for a debrief, the door shutting softly. His eyes devoured her—tits, hips, ass—as she strutted in, chiffon fluttering. 

“Nivi,” he said, standing, voice low, rough. 

“This chiffon’s a masterpiece—those shadows show your fire.” He stepped closer, the air thick, his gaze on her nipples teasing through the fabric. 

“You’ve owned this week, turned this place upside down.” His voice was a growl, his hand grazing her arm as he handed her a file, fingers lingering, pulling her closer.

Her pussy blazed, soaked panties sticking. He’s hard, picturing fucking my curves, she thought, her body screaming for more. “Glad you like it, sir,” she teased, leaning on his desk, chiffon teasing her curves, her voice bold. 

“I wanted to test everyone—see how they’d react.” She stepped nearer, their faces inches apart, his breath warm on her lips. His hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing into her curve, his eyes locked on hers. “You’re more than they can handle,” he murmured, leaning in, his lips brushing hers in a near-kiss, the tension snapping as his hand tightened, her pussy throbbing, begging for more. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you—your fire, your body,” he whispered, his mouth hovering.

A sharp knock broke the moment, a clerk bursting in with urgent papers. Raghavan stepped back, clearing his throat, but the near-kiss seared into Nivi, her pussy dripping, her body alive. 

That moment—I’m done with Anand’s empty life; this is what I want, she thought, her mentality fully shifted. She left, hips swaying, knowing his eyes followed.

Gossip exploded—a clerk whispering, “Nivi and the boss, almost caught in there!”—and her pussy surged, thriving. Later, Mohan caught her by the coffee machine, offering to carry her files. 

“Nivi, you’re unreal,” he said, his hand grazing her arm, eyes on her chiffon. “Anand’s blind—I’m not.” His closeness sent a gush to her pussy. I’m testing them all, living this fire, she thought, her new desires her truth.


At home, her mother-in-law smiled, stirring sambar. “You’re radiant, dear. Work’s your spark.” Nivi nodded, her pussy warm, thoughts of the week—curves teasing, eyes begging—cementing her new life over her old, dull one.


Continues....

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 18.5: Fractured Reflections


The evening sun dipped low over Coimbatore, casting a golden haze through the apartment window as Nivi pushed open the door, her white chiffon kurti still whispering against her skin with every step. 

The fabric, semi-sheer and teasing, clung to the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips, a remnant of the day's electric charge—the office's hushed whispers, the gang's hungry stares, Mohan's lingering touches, and Raghavan's near-kiss that had left her pussy throbbing with unmet need. 

She could still feel the dampness in her panties, a slick reminder of how alive she'd felt, strutting through the client presentation, owning every glance that traced her body. 

They're all craving me now, she thought, a wicked smile tugging her lips. Ashwin's grin hiding his hard cock, Dinesh's smirks begging for a taste, Ashok's shy eyes desperate to fuck me senseless. And Raghavan... god, that almost-kiss, his hand on my waist—he's going to claim this pussy soon.

But the thrill evaporated like steam off hot chai as she stepped inside. The air was thick, stale with the sharp tang of whiskey and something sourer—vomit, pooling faintly on the living room floor where Anand lay sprawled like a discarded rag. 

His shirt was untucked, stained with spills, his face slack and flushed from too many glasses. He didn't even stir as the door clicked shut behind her, his snores rumbling low and uneven. Nivi's stomach twisted, the high from the office crashing into a cold void. This is what I come home to? she thought, her pussy cooling as disgust flooded her. 

While men at work devour me with their eyes, imagining bending me over desks, this pathetic drunk can't even see the woman I've become—curves that make cocks twitch, a fire that burns hotter than his damn liquor.

She kicked off her sandals, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, and crossed to the kitchen, trying to ignore the mess. 

The kids' laughter filtered from their room, a bright spot in the gloom, but it only sharpened the ache in her chest. Anand groaned, finally stirring, his eyes cracking open as he pushed himself up on one elbow, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Nivi? That you?" His voice was slurred, thick with hangover and indifference, not a trace of curiosity about her day or the glow she carried.

"Yeah, it's me," she said, her tone flat, busying herself with pouring water from the filter jug. She didn't look at him, but she could feel his bleary gaze skim over her—once, twice—before settling on nothing. No spark, no hunger. Just emptiness.

He snorted, hauling himself to the couch, the cushions creaking under his weight. "You look... different. What, dressing up for those office idiots now? Heard from a friend—some gossip about you prancing around like a slut in fancy kurtis." 

His words landed like a slap, laced with mockery, his eyes narrowing as he grabbed the remote, flipping on the TV without waiting for a reply. "Figures. Bills piling up, kids a handful, and you're out there shaking your ass for attention. Pathetic."

Nivi froze, the glass halfway to her lips, heat rising in her cheeks—not from shame, but from a boiling rage that mixed with the lingering arousal from the day. Slut? she thought, her pussy twitching unexpectedly at the word, but twisted now with anger. 

If only he knew how right he is—how I've been teasing them, my nipples hard through chiffon, thighs flashing, making them want to fuck me raw. But from him? It's an insult, not a thrill. She set the glass down hard, the clink sharp in the tension. 

"Anand, don't start. You have no idea what my day's been like—or any day, for that matter. You're too busy drowning in whiskey to notice anything."

He laughed, a bitter bark that made her flinch. "Notice what? That you've put on weight and think it makes you hot shit? Please. You're still the same boring Nivi—flat as a board before kids, now just... softer. Who cares? Work your ass off, pay the bills, that's all you're good for." 

He waved a hand dismissively, eyes glued to the cricket match flickering on screen, but his words cut deep, echoing the years of neglect, the nights she'd lain beside him untouched, her body dry and forgotten while he snored.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to break. He's wrong, she seethed inwardly, her hands clenching at her sides. 

The office sees me—Raghavan's eyes on my tits, Mohan's knee brushing mine, the gossip about how I'm "dangerous" now. They want this body, this fire. Anand? He's blind, broken. The argument hung there, unspoken accusations thickening the air, until she turned on her heel, storming to the kids' room without another word.

Her mother-in-law was there, rocking the youngest in her arms, the five-year-old already tucked in with a storybook splayed open. 

The older woman's eyes met Nivi's, soft with understanding, as she set the child down gently. "Rough evening, dear?" she murmured, pulling Nivi into a quick hug.

 The scent of talcum and faint jasmine from her sari was comforting, a stark contrast to Anand's stench.
Nivi nodded, sinking onto the bed beside her sons, curling up with them as tears finally spilled. "He's worse than ever, Amma. 

Drunk, mean... called me a slut for dressing up. But it's not that—it's everything. The ignoring, the emptiness. I can't do this anymore." Her voice cracked, the day's empowerment fracturing under the weight of home.
The mother-in-law stroked her hair, her touch firm yet kind. 

"You've changed, Nivi. I see it—that spark in your eyes, the way you carry yourself. Work's done that for you, hasn't it? Or maybe someone there." She paused, a knowing glint in her eye, but no judgment. "I was young once, widowed too soon. Buried my own fire to raise Anand. Don't make my mistake—hold onto yours. The kids need a strong mother, not a broken one. Tomorrow, face him. Set your path."


Nivi wiped her eyes, the words sinking in like a lifeline. She's right, she thought, her pussy stirring faintly again as thoughts of Raghavan crept back—his steady gaze, his encouragement. He's the one who sees me, makes me bold. Anand's dragging me down, but I won't let him. 

Sleep came slowly, wrapped in the warmth of her children, but her mind raced, the fracture widening, pushing her toward a decision she could no longer ignore.

Nivi lay awake in the dim glow of the kids’ room, the soft snores of her boys a gentle rhythm against the distant hum of Coimbatore’s night—crickets chirping, a stray auto rickshaw rattling down the street. The chiffon kurti was folded on a chair, its sheer fabric catching the moonlight like a reminder of the day’s fire, but here, curled beside her sleeping sons, that fire felt distant, smothered by the weight of Anand’s words. 

Slut. Fat mom. Boring. 

They stung, not because they were true, but because they echoed the years she’d spent invisible in her own home, her body untouched, her desires buried. 

Her pussy, still faintly damp from the office’s stares, pulsed with a restless ache, but now it was tangled with something heavier—anger, guilt, and a hunger she was only beginning to understand. Why am I so drawn to this new me? she wondered, her fingers tracing the edge of the blanket. 

The office, the kurtis, Raghavan’s eyes—they’ve woken something I didn’t know was there. But Anand’s killing it, and I’m letting him.

Her mind drifted back, pulling her into shadows of the past. Five years ago, when they’d married, Anand had been all charm—late-night drives through Tamil Nadu’s winding roads, his hand warm on her thigh as he spun stories of their future. 

She’d been slim then, flat-chested and narrow-hipped, blending into the background, but his laughter had made her feel seen. He called me his spark, she thought bitterly, staring at the ceiling. But that was before the kids, before the bills, before the whiskey took him. She remembered nights in their first year, her body craving his touch, only to find him turning away, muttering about work stress. 

Once, she’d slipped into bed naked, hoping to reignite something, her skin flushed with nervous want. He’d glanced at her, scoffed—“Not now, Nivi, I’m tired”—and rolled over, leaving her cold, her pussy dry and aching for something he couldn’t give. Years of that, she thought, her chest tightening. 

No kisses, no hands on my skin, just me fading into his shadow while he drank himself numb.

The contrast hit her like a spark. 

Today at the office, every glance had been a touch—Ashwin’s grin hiding a hard cock, Dinesh’s smirks teasing her curves, Ashok’s shy eyes begging to fuck her senseless. 

And Raghavan—god, that moment in his office, his lips brushing hers, his hand gripping her waist, promising more. Her pussy clenched at the memory, a fresh wave of wetness soaking her panties as she shifted on the bed. They see me, she thought, her breath quickening. My tits straining in chiffon, my ass swaying, my thighs flashing—they want it all. I’m not boring to them. I’m a slut, their slut, and fuck, it feels good. 

Her hand slipped under the blanket, fingers grazing her thigh, inching toward her core. She wanted to touch herself, to rub her clit and imagine Raghavan’s tongue on the car seat again, licking her juices, his cock throbbing for her. But she stopped, fingers trembling, guilt creeping in. The kids are here. I’m their mother. Can I be this woman—this slut—and still be theirs?

She rolled onto her side, watching her youngest’s chest rise and fall, his tiny hand curled against the pillow. They’re my world, she thought, tears pricking again. 

But I’m more than a mom. I’m a woman who wants to be fucked, to be seen, to own her fire. The boutique flashed in her mind—Raghavan’s hands brushing hers, his voice urging her to embrace bold clothes, bold desires. He saw it before I did, she realized. 

This body—fuller breasts, round ass, curves that make men stare—it’s not just for them. It’s for me. To feel alive again. Her fingers hovered over her pussy, the heat tempting, but she pulled back, frustrated, the ache growing. Anand’s neglect starved me for years—no spark, no touch. 

Now I’m burning, and I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.

The thought solidified, a revelation breaking through the guilt. I deserve this, she told herself, her mind settling into a new truth. To be wanted, to be fucked, to let my pussy drip for men who see me. Anand’s done—he’s a ghost in this house. But Raghavan... 

he’s my fire now. She closed her eyes, the decision simmering, not fully formed but closer than ever. Sleep tugged at her, but her body stayed restless, her pussy pulsing with the promise of what she could become—a woman who owned her desires, no longer fading, ready to step into the heat.


The clock on the kids’ nightstand glowed 11:47 p.m., its faint green light cutting through the dark as Nivi slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her sleeping boys. 

The apartment was silent now, save for Anand’s distant snores from the living room, each one a reminder of the chasm between them. Her chiffon kurti lay discarded, replaced by a soft cotton nightie that clung loosely to her curves, but the heat from the day—those office stares, Raghavan’s near-kiss—still simmered in her core. Her pussy throbbed faintly, a restless ache that urged her to act, to reach for something beyond this stifling home. 

Anand called me a slut, she thought, padding barefoot to the balcony, her phone clutched tight. But he doesn’t know how much I want to be one—for men who see me, who make my body sing. The night air was warm, heavy with the scent of jasmine from a neighbor’s garden, and Coimbatore’s distant hum—late-night autos, a dog’s faint bark—felt like a pulse matching her own.


She leaned against the railing, heart pounding as she opened her phone, Raghavan’s name glowing in her recent calls. He listened at the temple, saw my fire in the boutique, she thought, her pussy clenching at the memory of his hand on her waist, his eyes devouring her in the chiffon. He’s the one who makes me feel alive—not Anand’s insults, not this empty house. 

She hesitated, thumb hovering, then hit call, her breath catching as it rang. What am I doing? her mind raced, but her body answered: I need him. His voice, his want.

“Nivi?” Raghavan’s voice came low, rough with sleep but warm, stirring her instantly. “It’s late—everything okay?” The concern in his tone wrapped around her, loosening the knot in her chest.

She swallowed, her voice soft, trembling. “No, sir. It’s… Anand. He was drunk when I got home, passed out in his own vomit. Called me a slut for dressing up, said I’m just a fat mom nobody wants.” Tears spilled, her words breaking, but she didn’t stop. 

“He’s wrong, isn’t he? You see me—the office sees me. I’m not fading anymore, but here, I’m… nothing.”

A pause, his breath heavy through the phone. “Nivi, you’re everything,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl that sent a jolt to her pussy. “Anand’s blind, a fool drowning in bottles. 

I see you—your fire, your curves, the way you owned that chiffon today. Every man in that office wants you—your tits, your ass, your strength. Don’t let him dim that.” His words were a lifeline, pulling her from the shadows, her panties dampening as her clit pulsed.

She leaned into the railing, the cool metal grounding her as her voice softened, bolder. 

“You make me feel it, sir. Alive, wanted. Today, in your office—your hand on me, your lips so close… my pussy’s been wet all day thinking about you.” The confession slipped out, raw and unfiltered, her breath hitching. Why am I saying this? she thought, but her body urged her on, craving his reaction.

He groaned softly, the sound sending a fresh gush to her core. 

“Fuck, Nivi, you can’t say that and expect me to stay calm. You’re killing me—imagining you in that kurti, your nipples teasing through it, your thighs flashing. Tell me what you need right now. 

Your body, your desires—what do you want?” His voice was a command, gentle but firm, pulling her deeper.

She bit her lip, sliding a hand down her nightie, fingers grazing her thigh, stopping just short of her pussy. “I want to feel like I did today,” she whispered, her voice sultry now, testing him. 

“Like I’m not just a mom or a wife. Like I’m… your slut, sir. My pussy’s so wet for you, thinking of you licking my juices in the car, wanting to fuck me.” Her fingers slipped under the fabric, brushing her swollen clit, a soft moan escaping as she spoke. “I’m touching myself now, imagining your hands, your cock…”

“Nivi,” he growled, his voice rough with want. “Touch that pussy for me. Describe it—how wet are you? Tell me how it feels.” His command sent a spark through her, her fingers circling her clit, slick with her juices.
“It’s… dripping,” she murmured, her voice shaky with pleasure. 

“So wet, sir, my panties are soaked. I’m rubbing slow, wishing it was your tongue, your fingers inside me.” Her hips rocked slightly, the balcony railing cool against her skin as she leaned harder, lost in the moment. “I want you to see me like this—naked, open, yours.”

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his voice thick. 

“You’re mine, Nivi. Tomorrow night, dinner—just us. I’ll show you how much you’re wanted, how much I need to claim that pussy. Say you’ll come.” His words were a promise, a dare, and her pussy clenched hard, a fresh wave of wetness coating her fingers.

“Yes,” she gasped, fingers moving faster, her clit throbbing. 

“I’ll come, sir. I want you inside me, fucking me until I can’t think.” The admission was a line crossed, her body screaming for release, but she slowed her hand, saving it for him. 

This is it, she thought, her mind catching up to her desire. I’m done with Anand’s emptiness. I’m Raghavan’s now—his to fuck, his to own.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice a caress. 

“Sleep now, but dream of me. Tomorrow, you’re mine.” The call ended, her phone dark, but her body buzzed, pussy aching with the promise of what was coming. She stepped back inside, the night air cooling her flushed skin, her decision sealed—a slut awakened, ready to claim her fire.


Dawn crept over Coimbatore like a soft whisper, the first light filtering through the balcony curtains, painting the kids’ room in gentle hues of pink and gold. 

Nivi stirred, her body heavy from fragmented sleep, the phone call with Raghavan still echoing in her mind—his growls, her confessions, the promise of tomorrow night. Her pussy tingled faintly, a lingering warmth from her whispered touches, but the night’s revelations had solidified into something sharper: resolve. She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the boys, and padded to the kitchen, the cool tile grounding her as she started the kettle for chai. I’m done, she thought, the decision crystal clear now. Anand’s neglect isn’t just words anymore—it’s poison. And Raghavan… he’s my antidote, my fire.

As the water simmered, she spotted the mess Anand had left—empty whiskey bottles tucked behind the fridge, a stack of unpaid bills scattered on the counter like forgotten promises. One caught her eye: a final notice for the electricity, red ink screaming urgency, the amount staring back like a accusation. 

He’s buried us in this, she thought, anger flaring hot in her chest. Drinking away our future while I work, while I change, while I burn for something real. She crumpled the bill in her fist, the paper crinkling sharply, and glanced toward the living room where Anand still snored, oblivious. No more, she vowed inwardly. Once my salary clears these debts, I’m free—for the kids, for Amma, for myself. And for him.

Her mother-in-law entered quietly, her sari rustling as she tied her hair back, eyes meeting Nivi’s with that same knowing warmth from the night before. “Up early, dear?” she said, reaching for the tea leaves, but her gaze flicked to the crumpled bill, understanding dawning. 

“You look… decided.”

Nivi nodded, pouring the boiling water over the spices, the steam curling up like her rising courage. “I am, Amma. Last night, after we talked… I realized you’re right. 

I buried my spark for too long, just like you did after Appa passed. But I won’t anymore.” She paused, stirring the chai, the clink of the spoon steadying her. “You were so young when he died—widowed at what, 28? Raising Anand alone, no time for yourself. Did you ever… want more? Feel that fire again?”

The older woman’s hand stilled on the sugar jar, her eyes distant for a moment, a rare vulnerability crossing her face. “Oh, Nivi,” she sighed, a small smile tugging her lips.

 “Yes. I was young, full of dreams that died with him. There were moments—glances from men at the market, a kind word from a neighbor—that stirred something. But I pushed it down, for Anand, for duty. Regretted it sometimes, lying awake wondering what if. Don’t make my mistake, dear. You’ve got that spark now—work, or whoever’s lighting it—hold it tight. The kids need a happy mother, not a hollow one.”

Nivi’s chest warmed, the words a blessing she hadn’t known she needed. She knows, she thought, her pussy stirring again at the thought of Raghavan. About the boss, the changes. And she supports it. “Thank you, Amma,” she whispered, handing her a cup. “I will. Today, I tell him—I’m done sharing his life. And tonight… I step into mine.”

The mother-in-law squeezed her hand, eyes twinkling. “Good. Shine, Nivi. You deserve it.”
As the sun rose higher, Nivi moved to the bedroom, pulling out fresh clothes—a simple kurti for the day, but underneath, she chose lace panties and a bra that hugged her breasts, the fabric teasing her nipples as she dressed. For tonight, she thought, her clit aching with anticipation. For him—to fuck me, to make me his slut. 

The decision pulsed through her, bold and unyielding, bridging the fracture of the night into a new dawn. Anand would wake soon, and she’d face him, but her mind was already on the evening—dinner, Raghavan, the heat waiting to consume her.

Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 19: Bold Steps and Midnight Promises


The morning sun climbed higher, spilling warm light across the kitchen as Nivi set down her chai cup, the steam still rising in lazy curls. 

The crumpled bill lay flattened on the counter now, a stark reminder of Anand’s failures, but her resolve from the dawn hours burned brighter than the Coimbatore heat filtering through the windows. Her mother-in-law’s words echoed in her mind—Don’t make my mistake—mingling with the heat from last night’s call, Raghavan’s voice a growl in her ear, promising to claim her. 

Her pussy stirred at the thought, a faint throb that fueled her steps as she moved to the living room, where Anand was finally stirring, groaning as he sat up on the couch, rubbing his temples.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face etched with the haze of a hangover, but he managed a grunt as she stood over him, arms crossed, her simple kurti hugging the curves he’d mocked last night. 

“What?” he muttered, reaching for a half-empty water bottle, not even looking at her fully.

“This ends, Anand,” she said, her voice steady, laced with the boldness that had grown from whispers to a roar over the week. 

“I won’t step into your room again, won’t share your bed or your mess. Once my salary pays off these debts—the electricity, the loans, all of it—I’m done. 

Completely. I’m living for the kids and Amma from now on. You? You’re on your own.”

He blinked up at her, surprise flickering briefly before dissolving into his usual indifference. He shrugged, swigging the water, his gaze sliding away to the TV remote. 

“Fine. Whatever you want. I’ll crash at a friend’s place anyway—drink without your nagging.” No fight, no plea—just emptiness, as if she were a bill he couldn’t be bothered to pay. 

He grabbed his keys, stumbling toward the door without a backward glance, the slam echoing through the apartment like a final punctuation.

Nivi stood there, heart racing not with pain, but with a fierce triumph. 

It’s over, she thought, her pussy clenching with a wicked thrill. 

No more fading in his shadow. Last night with Raghavan—my confessions, his commands—it’s all leading here. I’m his now, ready to be fucked, to submit. 

The lace under her kurti teased her skin, a secret promise for the evening ahead.

Her mother-in-law appeared in the doorway, a proud smile softening her features as she wiped her hands on her sari.

 “You did it, dear. Strong, like I knew you could be. That fire in you—it’s blazing now.”

Nivi nodded, pulling out her phone, her fingers steady as she texted Raghavan first, then dialed, the morning light warming her resolve. 

“Sir,” she said when he answered, her voice soft but edged with sultry confidence, “what happened this morning... I confronted Anand. Told him I’m done, once the debts are cleared. 

Your support last night—the temple, the clothes, our call—it made me bold. Thank you.”

His chuckle was low, rich, sending a fresh wave of wetness to her core. 

“Nivi, that’s my girl. Proud of you—you’ve claimed your freedom. And after last night’s promises… meet me tonight? Dinner, just us. Let me show you what you deserve.”

Her breath caught, pussy throbbing at the invitation. 

“Yes,” she breathed, voice sultry. “I’ll be ready.”

She spent the afternoon preparing, choosing a teasing kurti that hugged her breasts and flared over her hips, makeup subtle but smoky—lipstick red to match the fire in her eyes. 

Underneath, the lace panties clung, her clit aching with anticipation. Tonight, we cross lines, she thought, her body buzzing. He’ll fuck me, claim this slut I’ve become. 

Her mother-in-law watched with a knowing smile. “Be safe, dear. Shine.”

The evening deepened, Nivi waiting at the gate, heart pounding, pussy throbbing with need. 

Headlights pierced the dusk—the boss’s car arriving, a promise in the night.


Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 20: Traces in the Dark

The Coimbatore night hummed with a sultry heat as Nivi stepped toward Raghavan’s car, the headlights catching the soft teal kurti she’d chosen—its fabric clinging to the swell of her breasts, the neckline dipping subtly to hint at her curves, the hem flaring over her hips to tease the roundness of her ass. 

Beneath, lace panties hugged her pussy, already damp from the anticipation that had simmered since her dawn resolve—Anand’s indifference now a fading echo, replaced by the fire Raghavan’s gaze had ignited. 

I’m not his wife tonight, she thought, adjusting her dupatta to graze her neckline, a shy smile playing on her lips. I’m someone new, teasing him, making him want me—but I’m not ready to give in yet. Her heart raced, a mix of nerves and excitement, her shyness tempering the boldness that had flared last night in a moment of reckless confession.

She slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool against her thighs, her kurti riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of skin above her leggings. 

Raghavan’s eyes flicked to her, dark and intense, tracing the curve of her breasts, lingering on her legs as she crossed them, the movement pressing her pussy against the lace, sending a quiet jolt through her core. He’s watching every move, she thought, her cheeks warming with a shy flush, her pussy clenching at the memory of the boutique—the damp spot she’d left on this seat, his face bent close, maybe tasting her. Does he sense it now? The thought sent a shiver through her, her nipples hardening against the fabric, but she kept her gaze soft, teasing, not betraying the heat building inside.


“Nivi,” he said, his voice low, rough with a hunger that made her breath catch, as he started the engine. “That kurti… it’s doing things to me. You look like you’re up to something tonight.” His smile was slow, his eyes flicking to her chest, then back to her face, testing her.


She tilted her head, letting her hair fall over one shoulder, her voice soft but laced with a playful edge. “Maybe I am, sir. But you’ll have to keep up to find out.” Her words were coy, a shy tease rather than a bold promise, her heart pounding as his throat bobbed, his fingers tightening on the wheel. 

The city buzzed outside—scooters darting, vendors calling over sizzling pakoras, neon signs casting flickers of light—but inside the car, their tension was a private pulse, her shyness fueling her power to keep him wanting.

They pulled into a quiet restaurant down a narrow street, its lanterns casting a warm, amber glow over low wooden tables. The air was thick with the scent of ghee and roasted spices, mingling with the faint jasmine of her perfume as they settled into a corner booth, tucked away from the crowd. 

Raghavan’s gaze stayed on her, his eyes tracing her neckline where the kurti hugged her curves. “Pick whatever you like,” he said, sliding the menu across, his fingers brushing hers, lingering just enough to send a spark to her pussy. 

He’s trying to pull me in, she thought, her cheeks flushing as she adjusted her dupatta, letting it slip to show a hint of skin, her shyness making the move feel daring.

“Don’t tempt me, sir,” she murmured, her voice light, teasing, as she leaned forward slightly, the kurti outlining her breasts. “I might choose something… spicy.” 

Her eyes met his, a shy smile tugging her lips, her pussy throbbing as his gaze darkened, but she kept the moment delicate, not crossing into the explicit heat of last night’s call. 

That was a slip, she thought, her clit aching with the memory of her fingers, his commands. Tonight, I tease—make him want without saying it.

Dinner unfolded in a dance of glances and subtle touches—his knee grazing hers under the table, her fingers brushing his as she passed a plate of dosa, each contact sending heat through her body. She savored the game, tossing her hair to let the kurti shift, revealing a sliver of collarbone, or leaning back to let her curves catch the light, all while keeping her smile shy, her words playful. 

“You’re staring, sir,” she teased softly, licking a bit of chutney from her finger, the move slow and deliberate, her pussy pulsing as his jaw tightened. He’s hungry for me, she thought, her panties growing wetter, but her shyness held her back from more, letting the tension simmer.

“You’re making it hard not to,” he said, leaning closer, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine. “Every move you make, Nivi—that kurti, the way you’re sitting—it’s driving me crazy.” 

His foot slid against hers again, bolder now, and her pussy clenched, a fresh wave of wetness soaking the lace. He wants to fuck me, she thought, her cheeks burning, but she ducked her head, letting her hair hide her flush, keeping the power in her hands.

Continues.... 

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 21: Whispers Over Wine


Tonight’s not just dinner; it’s the spark turning to flame.

Raghavan’s eyes traced her, dark and appreciative, as the waiter poured wine, the deep red liquid swirling in crystal glasses. “Nivi,” he said, voice low, a growl beneath the politeness, “you look... radiant tonight. That kurti—it frames you perfectly, like it was made to show off every graceful line.” His compliment was direct but subtle, his gaze lingering on her breasts, the way the fabric hinted at their fullness, then drifting to her lips, painted a soft red. He’s imagining peeling this off, tasting me again, she thought, her clit pulsing gently, wetness stirring between her thighs. She shifted, crossing her legs, the movement pressing her pussy, a quiet thrill. “Thank you, sir,” she replied, voice sultry, indirect. 

“I wanted to feel... new tonight. Bold.” Her eyes met his, a naughty spark implying more—their shared secrets, her arousal from his words.

As appetizers arrived—spicy paneer tikkas and crisp salads—they eased into conversation, forks clinking softly. “Tell me about your future, Nivi,” he said, leaning forward, his hand brushing the stem of his glass. “After this morning’s bold step—what’s next? You’ve reclaimed so much already.” His tone was caring, probing, and she felt it—a warmth beyond desire, his support wrapping around her like the wine’s rich flavor.
She sipped her wine, the liquid warm on her tongue, her pussy throbbing faintly as his gaze held hers. “My past... it’s been a cage,” she confessed, voice soft, revelations unfolding. “Anand dazzled me young—charming, but full of lies. 

He was older, experienced, and I was naive, falling for it. Marriage, kids—they changed my body, gave me curves I never had, but he stopped seeing me. 

Just bills and booze.” Her ass shifted in the chair, the fabric teasing her skin, wicked thoughts mingling: While he ignored me, you see everything—my tits, my hips, my fire. “Future? I’ll pay his debts, then divorce. Live for the kids, Amma. But I want more—freedom, to feel alive.” 

Her nipples hardened under his stare, pussy wetting her panties. He’s listening, wanting my story and my body.

Raghavan nodded, his past spilling out in return, voice steady but vulnerable. “My past mirrors yours in ways—married young, ambitious, but it crumbled under work’s weight. No kids, but the loneliness... it’s a quiet killer. Built this firm from nothing, but success came with isolation.” 

His eyes traced her curves again, subtle compliment in his gaze. “You’ve brought life back to it, Nivi. The office—it’s buzzing now.” He chuckled, a naughty glint. “My men follow you like shadows—Ashwin with his jokes, Dinesh sneaking glances, even Ashok’s silent worship. 

It’s funny, really; they come in early just to catch a glimpse of your sway.” His words were light, teasing, but implied heat—their hunger for her ass, her breasts, mirroring his own.

She laughed softly, leaning forward, breasts pressing against the table, her pussy clenching at the image. They’re all hard for me, she thought, wetness smearing her thighs. 

“Funny? I’ve noticed—their eyes on my curves, whispering. But you... you enjoy it too, don’t you? Watching them chase what you sparked.” Her voice was naughty, indirect, a sultry challenge. Revelations deepened: He’s not jealous; he’s proud, like I’m his creation.

He grinned, wine glass pausing at his lips. 

“Guilty. It’s amusing—half the staff thinks work’s secondary now. They show up for you, Nivi. Your walk, your laugh, those outfits this week... it’s like you’ve cast a spell.” 

His tone turned funnier, exaggerated. “If productivity drops more, I might go bankrupt—blame it on the daily fashion show.” But his eyes darkened, serious beneath the joke, tracing her hips. He’s implying my power, she thought, pussy throbbing harder. The office is mine, but he’s the one who unleashed it.

As mains arrived—aromatic biryani and buttery naans—they delved deeper, plates steaming. “You’ve transformed, Nivi,” he said, voice earnest, a compliment woven in. “Six years ago, you were... unformed, quiet, nothing standing out. Now? You’re everything—curves that command, confidence that captivates. Those five days weren’t just clothes; they were for you to see your power, grow into it. The men ache for you, but it’s your inner fire that’s grown—irresistible.” 

His words hit like wine, warm and heady, his gaze on her breasts, her lips. He’s right, she revelations crashed: I was nothing; now I’m a force, tits and ass owning rooms, but it’s my spark that’s bloomed.

She sipped her wine, pussy dripping now, thighs slick under the table.

 “You’re right,” she admitted, voice soft, naughty. “Those days... they woke me. The stares, the whispers—they make me wet with power. But the office... I’ll tone it down. 

Can’t have you bankrupt from distracted workers.” Her tone was funny but serious, implying restraint—office as playground, but not the main stage. Revelations solidified: My power’s real, but I control it now. Keep the fire mild there, save the blaze for... here.

He laughed, low and appreciative, his foot brushing hers under the table, accidental but electric. “Smart as always, Nivi. But don’t dim too much—I enjoy the view.” His compliment lingered, eyes on her curves, and her clit throbbed, wetness soaking her panties. He wants me burning, she thought, the conversation weaving past and future, office whispers and personal flames.

As plates emptied, forks set down, the biryani’s spices fading, Nivi felt full—not just from food, but from revelations: Her past a shadow, future hers to claim, power understood and wielded. The night stretched ahead, empty plates a quiet end to dinner, but the beginning of whatever came next.


Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 22: Lakeside Whispers


Nivi slid into the passenger seat silently, the door clicking shut like a secret sealed, the car's interior wrapping her in leather and his subtle cologne. 

Her kurti clung to her breasts, the fabric soft against her skin, her leggings tight on her hips, but her mind raced—unsure, a mix of shyness and anticipation churning in her gut. 

Is he dropping me home, or taking me to his? she thought, pussy faintly tingling from dinner's charged glances, her clit pulsing with the unknown. 

I could ask, suggest... but what if he’s just helping, no expectations? She waited, heart pounding, letting him lead, her body buzzing with wicked possibilities.

Raghavan started the engine, his hand brushing the gear shift, eyes flicking to her curves—breasts, thighs—before pulling onto the quiet roads. 

Silence stretched, thick but comfortable, the city lights fading behind them. No words, no hints, and her mind voices swirled: Fuck, say something—ask if we’re heading to his place, if tonight’s the night he tastes me for real. 

But shyness held her tongue, revelations stirring: He’s patient, safe; I’ll follow his steps, let the heat build.

They drove past familiar streets, not toward her home, but outward, toward the outskirts where the lake shimmered under the moon. 

He parked in a secluded spot, the water’s edge lapping softly, nightbirds calling in the distance. No one around—just them, the vast lake reflecting stars. He turned off the engine, stepping out, and she followed, heart racing, pussy throbbing subtly as the cool breeze teased her skin.

Without a word, he pulled her into a warm hug, his arms safe, enveloping, his chest firm against her breasts. She melted into it, her ass pressing lightly against his thigh, the contact gentle but electric. 

Fuck, he feels strong, she thought, mind voices naughty: His hands could slide lower, grab my ass, but this... this is tender, making me wetter. Revelations hit: He’s not rushing; he’s building trust, and it’s hotter than force.

They sat on the grass by the water, his arm around her shoulders, a sensual touch—fingers brushing her arm, thumb grazing her collarbone. 

“Beautiful night,” he murmured, voice low, his breath warm on her neck. Her pussy clenched, wetness stirring as she leaned into him. “Tell me about your recent days—the naughtiness that’s got the office buzzing.” His tone was teasing, indirect, hand sliding to her waist, gentle but possessive.

She laughed softly, turning to him, her breasts brushing his arm. “Naughty? Me?” she purred, voice sultry, mind voices wicked: He knows—the kurtis, the stares, my pussy wet from their hunger. “These past weeks... I’ve evolved. Before, five years ago, I was innocent—flat, shy, nothing to turn heads. Now? The curves from kids, the confidence... it’s like I’ve bloomed.” His fingers traced her side, sensual, light, sending jolts to her clit. Fuck, touch me more, she thought, pussy dripping now, thighs pressing together.


He nodded, eyes dark, hand lingering on her hip. “You have—mentally, physically. From that quiet girl to this woman who commands rooms. The gossips call me your ‘daddy’ figure now.” His voice dropped, a dirty glint. “Funny how that shifted—from fatherly to... something spicier.” His thumb brushed her thigh, gentle but teasing, and her pussy throbbed, soaked panties sticking.

She flushed, leaning closer, her breast pressing his arm. “Daddy, huh?” she teased, voice naughty, indirect. “Started as respect, but now... the whispers make it dirty. Like you’re the one guiding my... evolution.” 

Her mind voices roared: Fuck, say it—how I want your ‘daddy’ hands on my tits, your cock owning me. Revelations deepened: He was my mentor; now he’s my flame, blending care with heat.

His chuckle was low, hand sliding to her lower back, fingers tracing her spine sensually. “Spicier’s right. Guiding you... it’s addictive.” 

The touch was gentle, but his eyes burned, implying more—their secrets, her power. Her ass shifted, pussy wet, clit aching. He’s hard, wanting to fuck his ‘creation,’ she thought, revelations: This evolution’s ours—innocence to fire, and he’s the spark.

Time flew, the lake’s whispers and their words blending—past innocence, recent naughtiness, her growth. His touches stayed sensual—hand on her knee, fingers interlacing—but never pushing. Fuck, make a move, she thought, body on edge, pussy dripping. But the safety, the talk—it built trust, revelations clear: He’s serious, not just lust.

Finally, glancing at her watch, she sighed. “It’s late—I should get home. The neighbors... they’ll talk if they see me arriving this hour with you.” Her voice was funny but serious, ass shifting as she stood, the breeze teasing her kurti.

He nodded, pulling her into another hug, his body firm against hers. “Understood,” he said, voice low, serious. “But this... it’s just beginning.” The car waited, the night holding its breath as they drove back, her pussy throbbing with unspoken promises.


Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 23: Villa Shadows

The car hummed through the quiet streets, Coimbatore's lights fading into the rearview as Raghavan drove, his hand steady on the wheel, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension. 

Nivi sat beside him, her kurti clinging to her breasts, the fabric soft against her skin, teasing the outline of her hardened nipples with every subtle breath. 

Her leggings were tight against her hips, her ass shifting slightly on the seat, the dampness between her thighs a constant reminder of the lakeside's sensual touches and whispers. He’s driving me home, she thought, heart steadying, but a wicked voice whispered: Or maybe not—maybe tonight he claims me, fucks me like I’ve been craving. 

She stayed silent, breath shallow, letting him lead, her body buzzing with anticipation. Revelations stirred: He’s in control, and fuck, it’s making me wetter, my pussy aching for his next move.

The familiar route twisted, the car veering onto a darker path, away from her neighborhood, toward the outskirts where grand villas loomed behind gates. 

Her heart raced, pussy clenching as realization dawned—a secluded villa, lights dim, silent and alone. This is his house, she thought, clit pulsing with a fresh gush of wetness soaking her leggings. He’s taking me here—not dropping me off. Fuck, is this it? The night we cross? She waited, breath hitching, letting him lead, her body on fire with the unknown. Shyness battled desire: Ask him—suggest staying, but what if he’s just being kind, no expectations? No, wait for his steps; let him unfold me slow, like he’s been doing all night.


He parked in the driveway, the engine dying to silence, stepping out and opening her door with a gentleman’s grace. His eyes traced her as she emerged—breasts rising with her breath, the kurti hugging their fullness, her hips swaying subtly, ass bouncing just enough to tease in the moonlight. 

From his view, she was a vision: curves illuminated by the villa’s faint lights, her pretty face flushed, lips parted in quiet anticipation. He drank in her moves, the way her thighs brushed together, hinting at her wetness, her ass a magnet as she stepped forward. 

Fuck, she’s stunning, he thought silently, body responding—cock stirring at her sway, her innocence mixed with fire. “Come in,” he said, voice low, eyes lingering on her curves, hand hovering near her lower back, not touching but close enough to spark electricity.

She followed, hips swaying with each step, ass bouncing subtly up the villa’s steps, knowing his gaze was glued to her back view—the kurti’s fabric teasing her spine, her leggings outlining every curve. He’s staring at my ass, imagining grabbing it, she thought, pussy dripping more, thighs slick. 

The villa swallowed them—marble floors gleaming under dim lamps, walls lined with books and shadows, the air cool and scented with sandalwood. Alone with him, finally, she thought, heart pounding, pussy throbbing. He could pin me against that wall now, rip this kurti off, suck my tits while his fingers find how wet I am—but he’s patient, and fuck, it’s torturing me in the best way.

Inside the spacious living room, plush couches invited, a low table holding crystal glasses and a decanter. He gestured for her to sit, his presence close as he poured water, his hand brushing her arm sensually—fingers lingering a second too long, tracing her skin lightly. From his view, her breasts rose with each breath, the kurti clinging, nipples faintly visible, her thighs crossed, hiding the dampness but not the heat radiating from her. She’s glowing, he thought, cock twitching at her subtle moves— the way she shifted, ass pressing the cushion, hips angling toward him. “It’s late,” he said, voice calm but edged with heat, sitting beside her, his thigh brushing hers.

 “You’re not sleepy yet, are you? We could... stay up, talk more.” His eyes met hers, dark and implying—the night’s potential, his desire simmering.

Her pussy clenched at his closeness, wetness soaking her leggings further, the fabric uncomfortable now against her slick folds. 

“Not sleepy at all,” she replied, voice soft, a naughty undertone slipping through. Fuck, say it—tell me I’m staying, that you’ll fuck me slow, taste me like the seat, she thought, but shyness held her. 

He’s testing the waters, building it slow, and I’m aching for every second. She leaned back slightly, her breasts pushing forward, the kurti teasing him, her ass shifting on the couch.

“Real drink?” he asked, standing smoothly, his hand grazing her knee sensually as he moved—fingers trailing lightly up her thigh before pulling away, a gentle tease that sent jolts to her clit. 

From his standing view, her curves were on display—breasts full and inviting, hips curved, the faint flush on her cheeks making her lips part temptingly. She’s ready, he thought, cock hardening at her subtle flinch of pleasure, the way her thighs pressed together, hiding her arousal.

She nodded, voice breathy. “Anything you offer.” Wicked thoughts swirled: Offer me your cock, your mouth—let me soak your sheets like I did the seat. He poured whiskey, neat, the amber liquid glinting, handing her a glass, their fingers brushing—electric, lingering, his thumb grazing her knuckle sensually. 

Then a cigarette, slim and white, lighting it for her, his face inches from hers, breath warm on her lips, eyes locked on her mouth as she inhaled. Fuck, he’s close, she thought, pussy dripping, clit throbbing. I could lean in, kiss him, but wait—let him lead, savor the build.

They drank and smoked, the whiskey burning a slow path down her throat, warming her core, smoke curling lazily between them, the room hazy with intimacy. He leaned back, arm dbanging the couch behind her, fingers occasionally brushing her shoulder—gentle, sensual strokes that made her nipples ache, her pussy clench. “This week’s been... revealing,” he said, voice low, a naughty glint in his eyes as he traced her arm lightly. 

“Your evolution—physical, mental—it’s captivating. Tell me more about those naughty days at the office.” His touch lingered on her elbow, thumb circling subtly, and her thighs pressed together, wetness smearing.

She exhaled smoke, leaning into his hand, her breast brushing his arm accidentally—sensually. “Naughty? Maybe a little,” she teased, voice sultry, indirect. Fuck, keep touching me, higher, lower—feel how wet you make me, she thought. 

“The kurtis, the stares... it’s awakened something. Before, five years ago, I was innocent—shy, unformed. Now? I feel powerful, desired.” His fingers trailed to her neck, gentle, teasing her hairline, and her pussy throbbed, dripping more. 

He’s drawing it out, making me beg inside, and I love the torture.

He nodded, hand sliding to her lower back, fingers tracing her spine sensually—light, possessive. “Powerful’s right. My past... married young, built the firm, but it cost me—loneliness, no real connection. Yours? That innocence turned fire—it’s intoxicating.” His touch dipped lower, brushing the curve above her ass, and she shifted, ass pressing back subtly. From his view, her profile was mesmerizing—breasts rising, hips curved, lips parted as smoke escaped. She’s fire incarnate, he thought, cock stirring at her moves, the way she arched into his hand.

Time slipped, drinks emptying, cigarettes burning down, their words weaving—her office teases, his quiet regrets, the evolution they shared. 

His touches stayed gentle, sensual—hand on her thigh, fingers interlacing—but never pushing, building the heat slow. Fuck, make it dirty, she thought, pussy soaked, clit aching, leggings uncomfortable now. But the safety, the talk—it deepened trust, 

He’s not rushing; he’s savoring, and it’s making me crave him more.

As the last cigarette burned low, glasses empty, she shifted again, the soaked leggings chafing her slick folds. “Am I... sleeping in this outfit?” she asked, voice naughty, indirect, implying her arousal, the dampness between her thighs. Sleeping like this isn’t helpful—too wet, too needy, needing something fresh... or nothing at all.

He paused, eyes darkening at her hint, that filthy moment relived in his gaze—but he said nothing, standing slowly. Without a word, he walked inside a room, leaving her heart racing, pussy throbbing in the hazy silence.


Continues...

[readersp]

Very nice story!!! Keep it going!!! You are doing a superb job!!!

[DeviKamasutra]

Immersive reading. And the flow never breaks with new chapters. Love it!!!

[lakshana]

Thank for your feedback. 

Thanks all the readers who send DM comments on the story and please post in comments too. 

Some clarification is i started writing this story year ago and i write this each chapter weekly one or monthly once like that and i sometime forget the past chapter details so it might feel repetitive and now I'm almost crossed 100th chapter in my writing and going back and correcting this mistakes is very boring since now I'm writing some spicy scenes i could imagine so i mages to rewrite initial 20 chapters and toned down the pace of her sluttiness for seamless corruption. I will post initial 20 chapters here for you and post 5 chapter each week. I am not a pro English writer so i'm using some help with writing tools to fix some grammar mistakes and the English words so that too sometime mess the content i will verify and post in my future Keep posting the feedback for my improvements. 

Thank you, 

No issues, You could also use AI tools to write 

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 24: The Babydoll Tease


The room hung in hazy silence after Raghavan disappeared into the adjoining space, leaving Nivi on the couch, her heart hammering like a drum in her chest. 

The whiskey's warmth still burned in her veins, mingling with the smoke's lingering haze, but it was nothing compared to the fire building between her thighs. Her pussy throbbed relentlessly, the soaked leggings clinging uncomfortably to her slick folds, the fabric chafing with every subtle shift of her ass on the cushion. Fuck, I'm a mess, she thought, mind voices racing wicked and desperate. 

Wet from his touches, his words, that filthy memory of him tasting my trace—and now this waiting? He's drawing it out, making me ache, and god, it's working. Her clit pulsed, begging for friction, but she held back, revelations stirring: He's testing my boldness; if I push now, tease him right, he'll snap—fuck me like I've been craving all night.

Footsteps echoed softly from the room, and Raghavan emerged, a sleek black box in his hands, tied with a subtle ribbon. His eyes locked on her immediately, tracing her curves—the way her kurti hugged her breasts, their fullness rising with her quickened breaths, her hips curved invitingly on the couch. From his view, she was a vision of restrained fire: lips parted from the smoke, cheeks flushed from the whiskey, thighs pressed together hiding her arousal, but the subtle squirm of her ass betrayed it. 

She's ready to break, he thought silently, cock stirring at the sight, her innocence from years ago now evolved into this tempting woman, curves begging to be unveiled.

He handed her the box, his fingers brushing hers—electric, lingering a second too long, sending a jolt straight to her pussy. "For you," he said, voice low, rough, eyes dark with implication. "Something I picked up... thinking of you."

Nivi's hands trembled slightly as she untied the ribbon, the box opening to reveal folds of black satin—a babydoll nightgown, ultimate in its tease, the material sheer and luxurious, designed to skim curves rather than cover them. The top was low-cut, meant to frame breasts with lace edges, the hem short, flaring just enough to hint at hips and ass without hiding anything. 

Fuck, this is lingerie, she thought, pussy clenching hard, a fresh gush of wetness soaking her already drenched leggings. It's for fucking, for teasing until he can't hold back. But doubt crept in, shyness mixing with jealousy—wicked thoughts turning sharp: Is this for another woman? Some lover he has? He bought it passing by a shop, but what if...

She looked up, voice soft but edged with question, her eyes searching his. 

"This... it's beautiful, but... for which woman did you buy this?" Her tone implied suspicion, revelations deepening: If there's someone else, this ends now—but god, I hope it's me, my body in this, driving him wild.

Raghavan's eyes softened, a chuckle low in his throat as he sat closer, his thigh brushing hers sensually. 

"No other woman, Nivi," he clarified, voice steady, honest, his hand grazing her knee lightly—gentle but possessive. "I saw it in a luxurious lingerie shop window while passing by. Your shape, your figure—it flashed in my mind instantly. 

Those curves you've bloomed into... I couldn't resist. But I didn't know how you'd take it—didn't want to push too soon." His gaze traced her breasts, her hips, imagining her in it, cock hardening at the thought. 

She's evolved—shy girl to this fire—and this gown's for her fire alone.

Relief washed over her, mixed with heat, her pussy throbbing harder. It's for me—my tits, my ass, she thought, mind voices naughty and bold: He'll see me in this, lose control, fuck me furious. 

She stood silently, box in hand, locking eyes with him—a wicked spark in her gaze implying her plan. 

Tease the hell out of him, make him snap, take us to the next level. Without a word, she headed to the room he'd come from—a guest bedroom, she assumed—locking the door behind her with a soft click.

Inside, the space was elegant—king bed with silk sheets, dim lamps casting golden light, a private bath adjoining. Her heart raced, pussy aching as she stripped, peeling off the kurti, her breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and begging. 

The leggings came next, soaked and sticky, the fabric clinging to her slick folds, her arousal glistening on her thighs. Fuck, I'm drenched—smelly from hours of wetness, she thought, revelations hitting: Can't present like this; need to be fresh, irresistible, so he devours me clean. She decided—no inners; the babydoll alone, nothing underneath, her pussy bare, ass exposed under the short hem.

She stepped into the bath, turning on the shower, hot water cascading over her curves—breasts glistening, water tracing her nipples, down her flat stomach to her pussy, washing away the day's scent, leaving her fresh, scented with the villa's soap—jasmine and musk. Fuck, clean for him, ready for his tongue, she thought, fingers brushing her clit under the stream, a tease but not release. 

Drying off, skin glowing, she rummaged her handbag for makeup—slutty, teasing: red lipstick bolder, eyes smoky with liner and shadow, cheeks flushed with blush, transforming her pretty face into a seductive mask. Lips full, eyes dark and inviting, she thought, mind voices wicked: He'll see a vixen, not the office girl—tits and ass begging, pussy dripping under satin.

Slipping into the babydoll, the black satin glided over her skin like a lover's touch—the low-cut top framing her breasts, lace edging her nipples, barely concealing their hardness; the hem short, flirting with her ass, pussy bare beneath, thighs exposed. No panties, nothing—fuck, I'm naked under this, she thought, turning in the mirror, ass peeking as she moved, breasts bouncing freely. 

He'll lose it—grab me, fuck me furious. Heart pounding, pussy already wetting the satin slightly, she unlocked the door, stepping out to reveal herself.

Back in the living room, Raghavan sat on the couch, whiskey glass in hand, his eyes snapping to her as she emerged. The babydoll transformed her—breasts full and teasing under the lace, nipples shadowing through the satin, the hem riding high on her thighs, ass curving invitingly as she walked slow, hips swaying like a predator. 

From his view, she was ultimate temptation: every inch of her body amplified—the way her breasts jiggled with each step, satin whispering over her skin, her bare thighs flashing, pussy hinted at under the short hem. Fuck, she's a goddess, he thought, cock hardening instantly, throbbing in his pants. That body—evolved, curved perfection—and she's wearing it for me.

She moved to the couch, not sitting immediately—teasing, standing close, turning slightly to show her side profile, ass bouncing under the satin, the hem lifting just enough to hint at her bare pussy. 

"Like it?" she purred, voice sultry, bending forward subtly, breasts pushing against the lace, nipples hard and visible. Her mind voices roared: Look at my tits, my ass—get hungry, snap and fuck me.

He swallowed hard, eyes devouring—breasts full, ass curved, thighs smooth. "Nivi... you're breathtaking," he growled, voice rough, cock straining. 

She sat then, crossing her legs slow, the satin riding up, flashing thigh almost to her pussy, ass pressing the cushion, breasts bouncing as she leaned back. Fuck, every move's a tease, he thought, hunger building furious.

She reached for her glass, arching her back, breasts thrusting forward, satin tight over her nipples, ass shifting to show more curve.

 "Whiskey tastes better now," she teased, voice naughty, taking a sip, lips parting sensually around the rim. Her pussy throbbed, dripping onto the couch—fuck, he's staring, cock hard; one more move and he'll break.

Lighting another cigarette, she inhaled deep, breasts rising, satin whispering, exhaling smoke slow, lips pursed, eyes locked on his. 

Then she stood, walking to the window, hips swaying exaggerated, ass bouncing under the short hem, satin lifting to tease her bare cheeks. 

Turning, she leaned against the sill, breasts forward, thighs parted slightly, pussy shadowed but implied. "The night's young," she purred, voice indirect, wicked. 

From his view, every inch screamed—breasts full and laced, ass curved invitingly, thighs smooth and bare, the babydoll a veil over her evolved fire.

He gripped his glass tighter, eyes hungry, cock aching—her moves deliberate, body a feast: breasts jiggling with her laugh, ass teasing as she shifted weight, thighs flashing promise. She's teasing hell out of me, he thought, fury building. 

He's breaking—my tits, ass, bare pussy under this; he'll snap soon, fuck me wild.

She returned to the couch, sitting closer, crossing her legs high, satin riding up to bare her thigh fully, ass pressing against him subtly, breasts brushing his arm. 

"Talk more?" she asked, voice sultry, but her body screamed otherwise—every move, every inch in the babydoll making him hungrier, the tease a feast building to explosion.


Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 25: Satin and Surrender


The living room seemed to shrink as Nivi stepped out from the bedroom, the black satin babydoll gliding over her bare skin like a lover's whisper, its sheer fabric a veil that teased rather than concealed. 

Without inners, her breasts hung full and free, the lace edges framing their perky swell, nipples hard and shadowed through the satin, poking subtly with every breath. 

The hem was scandalously short, flaring just below her ass, leaving her thighs exposed, her pussy bare and glistening faintly from the fresh shower, the jasmine-scented skin smooth and inviting. Her ass curved perfectly under the satin, bouncing with each deliberate step, the material riding up slightly to hint at her cheeks. 

From the front, her breasts dominated, full and jiggling; from the side, her hips flared, ass a magnet; from behind, it was pure temptation, the satin whispering over her curves like an invitation to sin. 

Fuck, I'm naked under this—pussy bare, ass teasing, tits begging, she thought, mind voices wicked and bold: He'll see every inch, lose his mind, grab me and fuck me furious. This tease is my weapon; I'll make him snap, take what's his.

Raghavan's eyes snapped to her the moment she emerged, widening in raw hunger as he sat on the couch, whiskey glass forgotten in his hand. From his seated view, she was a vision of evolved fire—the babydoll accentuating her breasts' fullness, nipples teasing through the lace, her bare thighs smooth and toned, leading to the shadowed promise of her pussy under the short hem. 

Her walk was slow, hips swaying like a predator's prowl, ass bouncing subtly, satin lifting to flash cheek. God, she's perfection, he thought, cock hardening instantly, throbbing painfully in his pants. That body—curves I dreamed of, tits full and perky, ass curved like sin, thighs begging to be spread. And bare underneath? Fuck, she's teasing me to the edge.

She paused midway, turning slightly to give him the side profile—breasts thrusting forward, ass arched, thighs parted just enough to hint at her bare pussy, the satin clinging to her damp skin from residual shower mist. 

"Like what you see?" she purred, voice sultry, low, her eyes locking on his with a naughty challenge. Her pussy throbbed, a fresh drip trailing down her inner thigh—fuck, he's staring, cock hard; one look and he'll break.
He swallowed hard, setting the glass down, his voice rough, strained. 

"Nivi... you're a fucking dream. That babydoll—your tits look incredible, full and teasing through the lace, nipples begging to be sucked. And your ass... god, the way it moves under that hem." His eyes devoured every inch—breasts jiggling as she breathed, ass curving invitingly, thighs smooth and bare, the satin a thin barrier to her fire. She's mine tonight, he thought, cock aching, fury building slow.

She smiled wickedly, walking closer, hips swaying exaggerated, ass bouncing with each step, satin riding up to flash her bare cheeks, her breasts jiggling freely, nipples hard points against the lace. From his view, it was torture—thighs brushing, pussy shadowed but implied, ass a hypnotic sway. 

"Dream? Or nightmare?" she teased, voice indirect, naughty, leaning forward slightly, breasts hanging full, satin pulling tight over her nipples. Her pussy dripped more, clit aching—fuck, watch me, hunger for me; I'll tease until you snap, carry me and fuck me raw.

He groaned low, shifting on the couch, cock straining visibly. 

"Nightmare for my control. Your thighs—smooth, leading to that bare... everything. And your walk? I'd die watching it all night." His words fueled her, pussy clenching, wetness trickling down her thigh. 

Revelations deepened: He's breaking already—my tits, ass, bare pussy; this tease is working, pushing him to the edge.

She straightened, turning to the table for the whiskey bottle, bending slightly—ass jutting out, satin riding high to expose her bare cheeks fully, pussy peeking from between her thighs, glistening. 

"Another drink?" she asked, voice sultry, pouring slowly, breasts bouncing as she moved, nipples teasing the lace. From his couch view, it was pure feast—ass curved and bare, thighs parted, pussy shadowed but wet, breasts full in profile. Fuck, she's dripping, he thought, cock throbbing furiously, hands itching to grab.

She handed him the glass, sitting close, thighs brushing his, satin hem riding up to bare her thigh almost to her pussy, breasts pressing against his arm, nipples hard and grazing him through the fabric. 

"To... lingering traces," she toasted, voice naughty, indirect, clinking glasses, her eyes implying the seat, his taste. Her pussy throbbed, ass shifting against him—fuck, feel my heat, my wetness; break and take me.

They drank, the whiskey burning, her sipping slow, lips parting sensually around the glass rim, tongue flicking subtly. He watched, transfixed—lips full, breasts rising, thighs exposed. 

"You're killing me," he growled, hand brushing her thigh sensually, fingers trailing up but stopping short. "That satin on your skin—your tits look so full, ass teasing every shift."

She laughed low, standing again, walking to the balcony doors—hips swaying like a siren's call, ass bouncing under the short hem, satin lifting to flash her bare pussy briefly, thighs smooth and glistening faintly.

From the sofa, he died watching—ass curved hypnotically, thighs parting with each step, breasts jiggling, the babydoll a torment. She's pure sin, he thought, cock aching, following her like a moth.

She opened the doors, stepping onto the balcony, the night air cool against her bare skin, satin fluttering, hem lifting to expose her ass cheeks fully, pussy feeling the breeze, clit throbbing. 

"Join me for a smoke?" she invited, voice sultry, turning to lean on the railing—breasts thrusting forward, satin tight over nipples, ass arched back, thighs parted slightly, pussy shadowed but wet. 

The open air amplified it—wind teasing her bare skin, making her nipples harder, pussy dripping down her thigh. Fuck, out here, exposed, he'll snap, grab my ass, fuck me against this railing, she thought, mind voices naughty and desperate.

He followed, eyes devouring her walk from behind—ass bouncing, thighs flashing, satin whispering. Standing close on the balcony, the lake distant under stars, he lit a cigarette for her, his body inches away, cock hard against her hip. 

"This view... your ass arched like that, thighs bare—fuck, Nivi, you're temptation," he growled, hand brushing her lower back sensually, fingers dipping to trace her ass curve.

She inhaled deep, breasts rising, satin pulling tight, exhaling smoke slow, turning to him—lips close, eyes locked.

 "Temptation? Or invitation?" she teased, voice indirect, naughty, leaning in, her breast pressing his chest, nipple hard against him, ass shifting to brush his thigh. 

Her pussy dripped, clit aching—fuck, kiss me, take me; the tease is peaking.

The air thickened, his hand sliding to her hip, fingers gripping sensually, pulling her closer. 

"Both," he murmured, voice rough, leaning in—lips crashing to hers in a sensual first kiss, slow and deep, tongues tangling, his cock hard against her thigh. 

She shared the smoke through the kiss, exhaling into his mouth, the haze mixing with their heat, her breasts pressing his chest, ass grinding subtly. Fuck, yes—his lips, his taste, she thought, pussy gushing, revelations: This kiss is the break; he'll fuck me now.

The kiss deepened, his hands roaming—grabbing her ass, pulling her up, but then he broke it, eyes wild. With a growl, he hoisted her over his shoulder like property—ass up, satin riding to expose her bare cheeks and pussy, breasts bouncing against his back, thighs dbangd. "Enough teasing," he said, voice furious, carrying her inside, the room door ahead.

Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 26: Thrown into Flames


Raghavan's shoulder was solid under her, his muscles flexing as he carried Nivi like a doll—weightless, claimed, her babydoll riding up fully now, bare ass exposed to the cool air, pussy dripping down her thighs, breasts bouncing against his back with each powerful stride. 

The villa's hallway blurred past, dim lamps casting shadows on the walls, but Nivi's mind raced, wicked thoughts tumbling like wildfire. Fuck, he's strong—old, probably my father's age or more, I thought he'd be frail, cock soft from years, unable to handle my needs, my curves, my hunger. Before tonight, I doubted—can this old man fuck me like I crave, pound my pussy until I scream? 

But now... his grip, the way he hoisted me effortless, that rub against his hardness earlier... god, he's massive, harder than Anand ever was, throbbing like steel. 

Her pussy clenched, leaking more onto his shoulder, the satin hem tangled at her waist, bare cheeks brushing his shirt. Revelations crashed: He's no old man—he's fire, and I'm the one who might break. 

Can I even manage him? Take that cock, let him own me? Her clit throbbed, ass jiggling with his steps, nipples hard against the lace, body on edge—fuck, yes, I want to try, want him to stretch me, fill me until I can't think.
He kicked open the bedroom door, the master suite sprawling—king bed with dark sheets, moonlight filtering through curtains, the air thick with anticipation.

 With a growl, he threw her onto the bed like property, her body bouncing on the mattress, breasts jiggling wildly under the babydoll, ass landing soft, pussy leaking onto the satin sheets immediately, a dark spot spreading from her arousal. Fuck, thrown like a toy, she thought, mind voices lustful and desperate: Look at him—towering, eyes wild, cock tenting his pants. 

I was wrong about his age; he's virile, hard as rock, and I'm soaking the bed already, pussy begging for him. Her thighs parted instinctively, babydoll hem riding up to expose her bare pussy, glistening, fresh from the shower but dripping anew. Anand never made me this wet, this needy—Raghavan's just starting, and I'm leaking like a slut.

He stood at the bed's edge, eyes devouring her—breasts heaving, nipples hard points through the lace, ass curved on the sheets, thighs spread to show her slick pussy. From his view, she was ultimate surrender: evolved body bare and wanting, tits full and perky, ass inviting, pussy fresh and non-used looking despite motherhood, pink and swollen. Fuck, she's mine—curves I sparked, now begging, he thought, cock throbbing painfully. 

He started undressing slow, deliberate—shirt unbuttoned, revealing a chest toned from years of quiet strength, not ripped but firm, hair dusted across, muscles flexing as he shrugged it off. Nivi watched lustfully, propped on elbows, breasts thrusting forward, pussy leaking more onto the bed—god, his chest, broad and inviting, nipples hard; he's no frail old man, he's built to fuck.

Pants next, zipper rasping down, his cock outlined massive in boxers, hard and thick, tenting the fabric. He stepped out, standing in just boxers, the bulge enormous, pre-cum staining the front, cockhead visible through the material. Fuck, that's huge—harder, thicker than Anand's ever was, she thought, pussy gushing, leaking a puddle on the sheets, her ass shifting in it. I doubted his age, but look at that cock—steel, ready to ruin me. Can I take it? Stretch around him? 

Yes, I need to—feel him own my pussy, make me scream. Her eyes feasted—thighs strong, cock throbbing visibly, balls heavy under the boxers.

He climbed onto the bed, body over hers like a predator, his weight pressing her down, cock hard against her thigh through the boxers, massive and hot. She gasped, breasts crushing against his chest, nipples scbanging lace. Fuck, he's on me, heavy, dominant, she thought, pussy clenching empty, leaking more. 

He captured her lips in a furious kiss, tongue plunging deep, claiming her mouth, smoke and whiskey mingling, his hands roaming—grabbing her ass, squeezing hard, fingers digging into bare cheeks under the hem. Her mind voices screamed: Yes, kiss me dirty, own me—your cock's so hard, pressing my thigh; fuck, it's bigger than I imagined.

The kiss broke, his mouth traveling down—nipping her neck, sucking marks into her skin, gentle but possessive, her breasts heaving as he reached them. 

He pulled the lace down, exposing one nipple, mouth latching hot and wet, tongue swirling, sucking hard, teeth grazing. Fuck, his mouth on my tit—sucking like he owns it, she thought, back arching, pussy gushing onto the sheets, ass grinding up. Anand never worshipped like this; Raghavan's savoring, making me leak.

He switched to the other breast, hand kneading the first, pinching nipple, his cock grinding her thigh, hard and insistent. Down further—kissing her stomach, savoring the motherhood marks, faint lines and scars from carrying life. His tongue traced them slow, lips pressing reverent but dirty, sucking gently on the soft skin around her navel, tongue dipping in, swirling. 

"Beautiful," he growled against her, voice rough, hands pushing the babydoll up, exposing more. Those marks—proof of her strength, her curves, he thought, cock throbbing. She's evolved—mother, woman, mine.

She moaned, ass lifting, pussy leaking wildly, the sheets soaked under her. Fuck, he's kissing my marks, tongue in my navel—dirty, worshipping; no one's done this, seen my scars as hot, she thought, He's not just fucking; he's claiming every inch, even the parts I hid. Her pussy ached empty, clit begging, wetness pooling.

He undressed her inch by inch, mouth traveling down—kissing her hips, sucking marks into her thighs, hands pulling the babydoll lower, satin dragging over her skin, teasing her breasts, her stomach, until it bunched at her knees. 

Her body bare now, breasts heaving, ass curved on the sheets, pussy exposed—gorgeous, pink and swollen, fresh and non-used looking, glistening wet, lips parted slightly, clit hard and begging. He paused, eyes locked on it close, breath hot against her folds.

From his view, it was perfection—pussy fresh, untouched-looking despite years, wet and ready, folds pink and slick, clit pulsing. Fuck, she's dripping for me, he thought, cock aching.

Nivi's thoughts raced, body on fire: He's staring at my pussy so close—seeing how wet, how fresh it looks, like no one's touched it right. Fuck, Anand never looked like this, hungry; Raghavan's devouring with eyes. Can he see I'm leaking? Smell me? God, take it—lick, fuck, own my fresh pussy.  This is it—bare, wanted, his.


Continues....

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 27: Devoured and Destroyed


The air in the bedroom was thick with heat, the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains casting a silver glow over Nivi’s bare body, sprawled on the silk sheets like an offering. 

The black satin babydoll was bunched at her knees, a crumpled veil exposing every inch—her breasts heaving, nipples hard and flushed from Raghavan’s earlier worship, her ass curved against the mattress, leaving a dark wet spot from her leaking arousal. 

Her thighs were parted wide, pussy glistening under his gaze, pink and swollen, folds parted slightly, clit throbbing visibly, fresh and untouched-looking despite her years of marriage and motherhood. 

From Raghavan’s close view, inches from her core, it was a masterpiece—smooth lips, inner walls tight and pink, her wetness dripping slow like nectar, pooling beneath her ass, the scent of jasmine from her shower mixing with her raw arousal. Fuck, she’s a vision, he thought, cock throbbing painfully in his boxers, massive and hard, pre-cum soaking the fabric. 

This pussy—fresh, tight, begging to be ruined by my tongue, my cock. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them wider, fingers sinking into soft flesh, thumbs brushing her outer folds, teasing without entering.

Nivi’s heart pounded like a drum, her pussy clenching under his stare, leaking a steady stream that soaked the sheets further, her ass shifting in the wet mess. 

He’s so close—seeing every pink inch, my clit hard, folds wet, she thought, mind voices wild and filthy. Anand never looked at me like this, never made me drip just from eyes. Fuck, talk dirty—tell me how you’ll wreck it, make me hornier. Her clit pulsed visibly, body trembling with need, I’m bare for him, vulnerable, powerful—his to devour, and I’m craving every second.

“Goddamn, Nivi,” he growled, voice low, rough as gravel, his breath hot against her folds, making her pussy twitch, clit begging. “This pussy’s fucking perfect—pink, tight, so fresh it’s like no one’s ever touched it right. Look at it—wet as fuck, dripping down your thighs, clit swollen, begging for my tongue to lick it raw.” 

His words were filthy, direct, one finger tracing her outer lip slow, collecting her slick, making her gasp, ass lifting slightly. “Anand was a fool—too drunk to see this sweet hole, these juicy folds, this hard clit screaming for a real man.” His thumb grazed her clit, a feather-light tease, and her pussy gushed, leaking more.

She moaned, loud and desperate, thighs trembling, pussy clenching at his dirty words. Fuck, his voice—filthy, making my pussy soak, hornier than ever, she thought, responding in kind, voice breathy, matching his fire. 

“It’s fresh for you, Raghavan—Anand never saw it wet, never made it drip like this. Talk more—tell me how it looks, how you’ll fuck it up.” Her tone was dirty, needy, breasts bouncing as she arched, revelations deepening: Dirty talk’s my drug; it’s making me wild, pussy leaking like a slut for him.

He grinned, eyes flashing with understanding—she loves the filth, gets hornier with every word, cock throbbing at her response. 

“Oh, you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? Love me talking about this fresh pussy—look at it clench, lips parting, wet and pink like it’s begging my tongue to dive in, stretch it wide.” 

His finger circled her clit slow, teasing, not entering, his breath fanning her folds, making them twitch. “Why so fresh? That bastard ignored it—left it tight, untouched, a fucking gift for me. 

I’m the lucky one—first to see this dripping hole, clit hard as a pearl, inner walls so pink they’re screaming for my cock.” His words dripped filth, eyes locked on her pussy, thumb pressing her clit lightly, making her buck.

She gasped, ass grinding into the wet sheets, pussy leaking a stream down her crack, voice wild.

 “Fuck, yes—lucky you, first to see my pussy this wet, this fresh. Anand’s cock was limp, nothing. Yours—I felt it, massive, hard as fuck.” Her dirty talk matched his, pushing the heat, pussy gushing, clit throbbing so hard she could barely stand it. 

This talk—fuck, it’s making me wilder, ready to squirt for him, she thought, revelations: He’s unlocking my filthiest side, and I’m his dirty queen.

He leaned closer, nose brushing her inner thigh, breath hot on her clit, making it pulse. “Next man after me? They’ll never see this freshness, Nivi. 

I’m gonna destroy this tight pussy tonight—lick it raw, fuck it deep, stretch it ‘til it gapes, ruin it for anyone else. Promise—I’ll make this hole mine, fill it with my cum, leave it dripping, craving only me.” 

His filthy promise sent her reeling, pussy clenching hard, leaking a flood, ass lifting, clit begging. Fuck, destroy it—make my pussy yours, ruin it forever, she thought, body trembling, revelations: I need this—wrecked, owned, his dirty slut.

“Ruin it—fuck, make it yours,” she gasped, voice raw, dirty, matching his intensity. “Lick my pussy, stretch it—make it drip only for you.” Her breasts heaved, nipples aching, pussy gushing onto the sheets, mind voices wild: His words are fire—I’m hornier, pussy soaking, ready to squirt.

He dove in, tongue flat against her pussy, licking slow from her ass to her clit, savoring every inch—outer lips, inner folds, the tight entrance, the swollen clit. His mouth was hot, wet, lapping her wetness, tasting her fresh essence, jasmine mixing with her raw scent.

“Fuck, so sweet—pink folds dripping, tight hole begging,” he murmured between licks, voice muffled against her pussy, vibrating her clit. His tongue probed deep, lapping her inner walls, sucking her lips one by one, then circling her clit hard, relentless. 

His fingers joined—one, then two—thrusting slow, curling to hit her spot, stretching her gently while his mouth sucked her clit, filthy words spilling. 

“This fresh pussy’s mine—look at it leak, clit hard for my tongue, gonna make it squirt, ruin it for good.”

She bucked wildly, moaning loud, pussy clenching around his fingers, leaking streams into his mouth, ass grinding into the soaked sheets. Fuck, his tongue—licking every fold, sucking my clit, fingers stretching my hole, she thought, body shaking, breasts bouncing. 

His dirty talk pushed her higher—“Tight little hole, dripping so sweet, gonna make it gape with my cock”—making her pussy gush, clit throbbing under his tongue. He intensified—tongue diving deeper, lapping her walls, fingers thrusting faster, curling harder, mouth sucking her clit like a starving man.

 “Gonna wreck this pussy, make it squirt all over me,” he growled, words muffled, lips vibrating her folds.

Her body tensed, pleasure building unbearable, pussy clenching violently around his fingers, clit pulsing under his tongue. Fuck, it’s coming—real, wild, squirting, she thought, No one’s done this, not Anand—first real orgasm, his to claim. 

She shattered, a scream tearing from her throat, pussy erupting—not just cum but a flood, squirting hard, soaking his mouth, chin, neck, the sheets. He didn’t miss a drop—mouth latched tight, swallowing every squirt, tongue lapping furiously, fingers milking her through the waves, drinking her essence like a man possessed. 

“Fuck, every drop’s mine—sweet, fresh, all for me,” he growled against her pussy, sucking the last spurts, her body trembling, ass lifting, breasts heaving.

She collapsed, gasping, pussy twitching aftershocks, leaking the final drops onto his tongue, sheets a mess beneath her. Her voice came breathy, raw, as she confessed, 

“That... my first orgasm. Ever. Anand never—fuck, nothing like this, never made me squirt.” Revelations hit deep: He’s given me what no one could—ruined my pussy, reborn it for him.

He lifted his head, face glistening with her cum, eyes dark and smoldering. “First? Fuck, Nivi, I’m honored—and I’m not done ruining you.” The promise hung heavy, her body spent but aching for more.

Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 28: Tasting Surrender

The bedroom air was heavy, saturated with the musk of Nivi’s recent orgasm, her body sprawled across the silk sheets, still trembling from the shattering squirt that had soaked Raghavan’s mouth and the bed beneath her ass.

Her pussy twitched with aftershocks, glistening pink and fresh, folds parted, clit sensitive and pulsing, the black satin babydoll tangled uselessly at her knees, exposing every curve—breasts heaving, nipples hard and flushed from his earlier worship, ass curved and slick against the drenched sheets, thighs parted wide, her arousal pooling in a dark spot beneath her. 

Raghavan’s face hovered above her core, lips glistening with her essence, eyes dark with triumph, tongue flicking out to savor the last drops of her squirt. 

Fuck, I squirted—my first real cum, wild, filthy, all for him, she thought, mind voices reeling in bliss and insatiable hunger. Anand never got close, never made my pussy gush like that. This man—old as my father, but god, his tongue ruined me, stretched my fresh hole like he promised. 

Now it’s my turn. I’ve never sucked cock—Anand hated it, called it dirty, left me craving, watching porn in secret, that aching void of missing out. Those women—deepthroating, swallowing, owning every drop—fuck, I want it all, to try every porn trick, make him cum hard, taste his load, submit like a slut and claim my power. 

I’m his, but I’ll own his cock, make him beg, prove I can handle his massive hardness.

She pushed up on her elbows, breasts bouncing freely, nipples hard points in the moonlight, her pussy leaking residual drops onto the sheets, thighs slick and glistening. 

Her eyes locked on the massive bulge in his boxers, the fabric stretched tight, stained with pre-cum, cock throbbing visibly—long, thick, harder than anything Anand ever offered. Fuck, look at that—huge, pulsing, bigger than I dreamed; Anand’s was soft, pathetic, but this... god, it’s steel, made for my mouth, she thought, crawling forward on the bed, ass up, pussy exposed and dripping as she moved, thighs brushing slickly. Her hands trembled with excitement and nerves—first time sucking cock, but I’ll make it porn-worthy, deep, sloppy, every skill I watched. 

“My turn,” she said, voice breathy but bold, fingers reaching for his waistband, tugging slow, teasing, her eyes burning into his. I’ll make you cum, taste every drop, submit and conquer, she thought, pussy clenching at the thought, leaking more onto the bed.

Raghavan’s eyes widened, cock jumping at her boldness, his voice a low, filthy growl that sent shivers to her clit. “Eager little slut, huh? Think you can handle this big cock—thick, hard, ready to choke that pretty throat of yours? You’ve never sucked one, have you? Innocent Nivi, but fuck, you’re dying to be my dirty girl.” His words were raw, commanding, making her pussy gush, clit throbbing anew despite her orgasm. 

Fuck, his talk—calling me slut, promising to choke me; it’s making me hornier, submitting deeper, she thought, revelations deepening: I love this filth, his dominance; I’m his to guide, to ruin with his cock.

She tugged his boxers down slow, deliberate, her breath catching as his cock sprang free—massive, veined, head flushed a deep red, leaking pre-cum in glistening beads, balls heavy and tight below, the whole length harder and thicker than she’d ever imagined. 

Fuck, it’s huge—longer than my hand, thick as my wrist, pulsing with heat; Anand’s was nothing, limp and small, but this... god, can I take it? Deepthroat like those porn stars? she thought, pussy dripping onto the sheets, ass wiggling as she leaned closer, hand wrapping around the base, stroking slow, feeling the heat, the pulse, the veins throbbing under her fingers. 

“It’s so fucking big... so hard for me,” she purred, voice sultry, dirty, matching his fire. “You’re massive—harder than anyone, cock begging for my mouth. I’ll suck it like a whore, make you cum so hard, taste every drop.”


He groaned deep, hand threading into her hair, gripping tight but not forcing—guiding, encouraging. “That’s it, my dirty slut—wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock, suck it deep, choke on it. 

You’re mine now, throat made for my dick, pussy dripping just thinking about my load.” His filthy talk fueled her, pussy clenching empty, leaking a fresh stream, clit aching for more. 

Fuck, his voice—calling me his slut, owning my throat; I’m submitting, hornier than ever, she thought, revelations: I’m a cocksucker now, his dirty girl, and I fucking love it. “Guide me,” she whispered, voice naughty, pleading.

 “First time... show me how to please this big cock.”

His eyes darkened, a wicked grin spreading, cock twitching in her hand. 

“First time? Fuck, that’s hot—innocent Nivi learning to suck my dick like a porn star. 

Start slow—lick the head, taste my pre-cum, get those lips wet. Then take it deep, let it hit your throat, gag like a good slut.” His guidance was filthy, precise, hand tugging her hair gently, urging her closer.

 She nodded, pussy gushing at his words—fuck, he’s teaching me, making me his; I’ll do it all, make him proud, she thought, leaning in, tongue flicking the head, lapping the salty pre-cum, hot and musky, making her moan low.

Her lips parted, stretching around the head, tongue swirling the underside, sucking gently, hand stroking the shaft slow and tight, learning the feel—hard, pulsing, so thick it filled her mouth. 

Fuck, tastes so good—salty, hot, like power; porn made it look easy, but he’s huge, stretching my lips, she thought, bobbing shallow at first, cheeks hollowing, saliva dripping down the shaft. 

Her ass wiggled behind her, pussy leaking onto the bed, clit throbbing at the act—submitting on her knees, sucking like a pro. 

“So big... tastes so fucking good,” she moaned between sucks, voice muffled, eyes locked on his, praising his cock. “Harder than Anand’s ever was, thick, filling my mouth—god, you’re perfect.”

He growled, hips twitching, hand guiding her head, fingers tangled tighter. 

“Fuck, yes—suck that cock, dirty girl. You’re learning fast, lips so tight, tongue teasing my head like a slut. Deeper now—take it to your throat, gag for me, show me you’re mine.” 

His dirty talk pushed her, pussy gushing, clit aching—fuck, his words, guiding me, calling me slut; I’m submitting harder, hornier, she thought, pushing deeper, the head hitting her throat, gagging slightly but relaxing like in the porn, nose brushing his base, tongue flicking his balls, saliva drooling down her chin, breasts bouncing with her bobs.

“Good girl—fuck, gag on that dick, choke like my perfect whore,” he praised, voice rough, thrusting shallow into her mouth, guiding her rhythm. “Look at you—first time, and you’re sucking like a pro, throat tight, lips wet, making my cock throb. Anand never deserved this mouth; it’s mine now.” 

His filth made her wilder, pussy leaking a stream, ass grinding into the wet sheets. Fuck, he’s praising me, owning my mouth—yes, I’m his whore, sucking for him, she thought, This is what I missed—sucking cock, submitting, feeling powerful in it.

She intensified, mimicking porn—deepthroating, gagging loud, saliva coating his cock, dripping to his balls, hand massaging them, feeling their weight, other hand stroking the base, twisting. 

She sucked hard, tongue swirling the head, then diving deep again, throat tightening, eyes watering but locked on his, showing submission. “Fuck, your cock—so thick, stretching my throat; love tasting you, making you hard,” she gasped between bobs, voice dirty, praising. “Guide me more—tell me how to suck it right.”

He groaned louder, hips thrusting, hand pulling her hair. “Perfect slut—twist that hand tighter, suck the head harder, let it choke you. You’re doing it—making my cock pulse, ready to cum for you. 

Throat it deep, take every inch, show me you’re my dirty girl.” His guidance was filthy, urging her deeper, and she obeyed, gagging harder, throat stretching, lips tight, tongue lapping his balls, saliva a messy trail. 

Fuck, I’m doing it—porn skills, gagging, submitting, making him groan; I’m his, she thought, pussy dripping wildly, clit throbbing at her power.

His cock tensed, throbbing harder, balls tightening in her hand. “Fuck, Nivi—gonna cum, flood that pretty throat. Swallow every drop, slut—taste me, own my load, submit to it.” 

His dirty talk pushed her to the edge, pussy gushing onto the bed, ass wiggling—fuck, yes, cum for me; I’ll taste it all, swallow like a whore, she thought, sucking furiously, lips tight, hand pumping, tongue swirling the head, throat open.

He exploded with a guttural groan, hot ropes of cum shooting down her throat, thick and salty, filling her mouth, spilling over her tongue. She swallowed greedily, not missing a single drop, milking him with her lips and hand, tongue lapping the head clean, savoring every pulse, every spurt. 

Fuck, tasting him—hot, thick, mine; first time, but I nailed it, porn-perfect, she thought, pussy gushing at the act, revelations: I’m his cocksucker, submitted and victorious, claimed every drop.

She pulled back slow, lips glistening, swallowing the last, licking her lips with a naughty smile. 

“Every fucking drop... yours,” she purred, voice raw, eyes burning into his. “Your cock’s perfect—huge, hard, tastes like power. I’ve never... fuck, I loved sucking you.” Her confession was dirty, praising, submitting further, pussy leaking onto the sheets.

He sagged back, cock twitching, spent but still hard, eyes dark with awe. “Fuck, Nivi—first time, and you sucked like a filthy star. My slut, owning my cum, submitting so perfect. We’re not done—your pussy’s next.” 


Continues...

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 29: Dawn's Tease


Nivi collapsed back onto the silk sheets, her body a trembling wreck, pussy still pulsing with faint aftershocks from the squirting orgasm that had left her drained and euphoric. 

The babydoll was a tangled mess at the foot of the bed, her breasts heaving, nipples hard and sensitive in the cool air, ass sinking into the wet spot she'd created, thighs slick and parted, cum leaking slowly from her folds. Raghavan lay beside her, his cock spent but semi-hard, chest rising and falling, face glistening with her essence, boxers discarded on the floor. 

Fuck, we both came hard—without even fucking, she thought, mind voices hazy with bliss. My first orgasm, squirting like a porn star, and he swallowed it all. 

But him... I made him cum with my mouth, first time ever, and he exploded like he'd never felt it. Her pussy twitched, a subtle ache building already, revelations stirring: We're equals in this—both shattered by foreplay alone.

Raghavan pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her waist, hand resting possessively on her ass, fingers kneading gently, sensual. His cock brushed her thigh, still warm and thick, and she felt it twitch. "Fuck, Nivi," he murmured, voice rough, low, breath hot against her neck. 

"We both came... without the main act. That's never happened to me—a woman making me explode before I even fuck her. Your mouth... god, you sucked me like a pro, throat tight, swallowing every drop. First time for you too?"
She nodded, turning to face him, breasts pressing his chest, nipples grazing his skin, her hand trailing down his stomach, fingers brushing his spent cock. 

"Yeah... first ever orgasm for me. Anand never... nothing close. I squirted—fuck, it was wild, your tongue wrecking my pussy, fingers stretching me." Her voice was breathy, dirty, matching his tone, pussy tingling at the memory. Fuck, admitting it makes me hornier—submitting to how he ruined me, she thought, We broke each other with just mouths; imagine what his cock will do.

He chuckled low, hand sliding to her breast, thumb circling her nipple sensually, making it harden further. "Squirted like a filthy slut—sweet, fresh pussy gushing for me. I swallowed it all, didn't waste a drop. Anand's a fool; left you untouched, but fuck, it made you mine to break first." 

His words were filthy, praising, his cock stirring against her thigh, hardening slowly. "And you—sucking my cock like that, gagging deep, first time? You owned it, made me cum harder than ever before penetration. Dirty girl, submitting so perfect."

She moaned softly, hand wrapping around his cock, stroking slow, feeling it thicken.

 "Your cock... so big, hard—tasted like power. I watched porn, dreamed of it, but Anand hated blowjobs. Fuck, making you cum, swallowing your load... it was hot, submitting to your filth." Her tone was naughty, dirty, pussy wetting again, leaking onto his thigh. Fuck, talking like this—praising his cock, admitting my firsts—it's turning me on, ready for more, she thought, revelations: We're filthy together, no shame; this is us.

They lay there, bodies entwined, his hand roaming her ass, squeezing, fingers dipping between her cheeks sensually, her stroking his cock lazy, hardening it fully. But tiredness crept in, the night's foreplay draining them. "Main act soon," he said, voice low, naughty, "but fuck, I'm spent. Cuddle? Chit-chat, smoke—get ready slow." His thumb brushed her clit lightly, making her gasp, pussy clenching.

"Yes," she purred, pressing closer, breasts crushing his chest, ass grinding his hand. "Tired but horny—cuddle nude, talk dirty, smoke in bed." Fuck, yes—build it back, tease until we fuck, she thought, hand squeezing his cock. They shifted, him pulling her on top, her thighs straddling his, pussy pressing his hardening cock, breasts on his chest, nipples grazing.

He lit a cigarette from the bedside, handing it to her, taking one for himself, smoke curling as they inhaled. "Tell me more—your past innocence, how you bloomed dirty," he said, hand on her ass, squeezing, finger tracing her crack sensually.

She exhaled smoke, breasts rising, pussy grinding subtly on his cock. "Innocent? Yeah—flat, shy, Anand dazzled me young. But kids gave me curves, office woke the slut. Your talk... fuck, it makes me submit, hornier." Her voice dirty, hand stroking his cock slow. Fuck, nude, smoking, his hands on me—naughty, intimate, building the fire, she thought.

He groaned, thrusting up slightly, cock hard against her pussy. "Bloomed into this—tits full, ass perfect, pussy fresh but filthy. I was your father figure—now gossips call me daddy, and fuck, it fits. Dirty daddy owning your holes." His words filthy, hand slapping her ass lightly, finger dipping to her pussy entrance, teasing.

She moaned, smoke exhaling on his neck, breasts pressing harder, pussy leaking onto his cock. "Daddy? Fuck, yeah—from mentor to this... owning me, making me squirt. Gossips right—dirty daddy, wreck my pussy." Her dirty talk matched, grinding down, clit rubbing his shaft. Fuck, calling him daddy—filthy, submitting more, pussy dripping, she thought, revelations: This kink—his age, my submission—it's us.

They finished the cigarettes, tiredness fading to heat, but he suggested the balcony. "Fresh air—smoke nude, let the night see your curves." His hand squeezed her breast, thumb pinching nipple sensually.

"Yes," she breathed, standing, body nude and glowing—breasts bouncing, ass curved, pussy wet and pink, thighs slick. He followed, cock hard and bobbing, eyes on her sway. Fuck, nude outside—naughty, exposed, his touches coming, she thought.

On the balcony, cool air kissed her skin, nipples hardening to points, pussy feeling the breeze, clit throbbing. They lit cigarettes, leaning on the railing, his arm around her waist, hand sliding to her ass, squeezing, finger tracing her crack sensually. The lake shimmered below, stars fading as dawn hinted. "Your body's art—tits hard in the air, ass perfect," he growled, dirty, hand slapping her ass lightly.

She exhaled smoke, pressing back, ass grinding his cock. "Yours too—cock hard, ready to fuck. Night air makes me dirtier, submitting to you." Her voice naughty, hand reaching back, stroking his cock slow. Fuck, nude, smoking, his hands on me—teasing, building; sun's rising? We've spent the night on foreplay, she thought, revelations: Time flew in our filth; main act at dawn?

His touches turned naughtier—hand cupping her breast, pinching nipple, other finger dipping into her pussy shallow, thrusting slow. "Dirty slut—pussy wet in the open, clit begging." He growled, cock pressing her ass crack.
She moaned, smoke curling, ass grinding back, hand stroking faster. "Fuck, daddy—finger me deeper, make me submit." Their acts escalated—his finger thrusting, her hand pumping, bodies pressed, nude under the lightening sky.

As the second cigarette burned low, the horizon glowed pink, sun starting to rise. "Fuck," he said, voice low, "sun's up—we spent the whole night on foreplay, teasing, cumming without fucking."

She laughed breathy, turning, breasts pressing his chest. "Night gone—just mouths, hands... but worth it." Fuck, entire night foreplay—wild, she thought.

Then the door bell rang—sharp, unexpected. They froze, nude on the balcony, his finger still in her pussy, her hand on his cock, hearts stopping, the chapter ending on that frozen shock.

Continues...

[readersp]

You rock!!!

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 30: Shattered Silence

The balcony air was cool, the early morning sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of Sunday dawn, stars fading over the distant lake. The sharp ring of the doorbell sliced through the intimate haze like a knife, freezing Nivi and Raghavan in place, both nude and exposed. 

Nivi’s breasts heaved, nipples hard from the night’s foreplay and the chilly breeze, her ass curved against the railing, pussy slick and throbbing from her squirting orgasms, thighs glistening with her cum. Raghavan stood beside her, cock semi-hard and bobbing, his hand still gripping her ass, a finger paused mid-thrust in her wet folds. 

The bell rang again, insistent, shattering their cocoon. Fuck, who’s at the door at this hour? she thought, heart pounding, pussy clenching in sudden fear. We’re naked—tits, ass, pussy out here; if someone sees... gossip, ruin. But god, a twisted part thrills—someone catching me as his slut, fucked raw. This exposure is terrifying but hot, my power teetering on shame.

Raghavan’s eyes darkened, his hand slipping from her pussy, voice a low, calming growl. 

“Shh, Nivi—stay calm. Probably a mistake or delivery. Let’s get inside.” He grabbed a towel from the balcony chair, wrapping it around his waist, his cock still outlined, thick and hard, as he pulled her close, shielding her nude body with his own. His touch was protective, sensual, hand brushing her breast gently, nipple grazing his arm, making her pussy throb despite the scare. Fuck, he’s in control, calming me—his cock’s still hard, wants me, she thought, leaning into him, ass pressing his thigh, breasts crushing his chest.

They slipped into the villa’s dim interior, shadows wrapping them, but Nivi’s playful heat lingered, unaware of the storm brewing. As they reached the living room, she turned to him, voice sultry, naughty, dripping with promise. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna take a bath—join me after you send whoever’s waiting outside?” Her words were filthy, implying his cock plunging into her under hot water, hands grabbing her tits, fucking her raw against the tiles. Her pussy leaked at the thought, thighs slick, breasts bouncing as she stepped toward the bedroom, her nude side profile glowing—ass curved, thighs parted, pussy hinting wetly in the lamplight.

Before she could disappear, the doorbell rang again, and the front door swung open—Ashok stepping in, key in hand, face urgent, oblivious at first. Raghavan had given him access for emergencies, like picking up critical files if he overslept, trusting his loyal puppet. Ashok’s eyes widened in shock, locking on Nivi’s naked side view—breasts full and bare, nipples hard and pointed, ass curved like a siren’s call, thighs slick with cum, a glimpse of her pink, freshly ruined pussy visible in the dim light. He froze, mouth agape, cock stirring involuntarily in his pants, the office cuck’s fantasy crashing into reality. 

Fuck, Ashok—seeing me naked, tits out, pussy dripping from orgasms, she thought, shame burning her face, body shivering in panic as she bolted to the bedroom, slamming the door, curling on the bed in fetal position, tears pricking her eyes.  Exposed to the office cuck—how do I face him Monday? His silent stares were bad; now he knows I’m the boss’s whore, fucked senseless. But fuck, his cuck eyes burning, wanting what he’ll never have—it’s power, twisted and hot.

Raghavan sped to Ashok, grabbing his collar, shoving him out onto the doorstep, voice a furious whisper, dripping menace. “What the fuck are you doing here at dawn? Emergency file? You saw nothing—utter one word about her, and you’re finished. Fired, blacklisted, your life in ashes. 

You’re my puppet, Ashok—keep quiet, or I’ll crush you.” His eyes blazed, hand gripping tight, cock still hard under the towel, a protective fury radiating. Ashok nodded frantically, pale, stammering, “S-sorry, sir, just files... won’t say a word,” fleeing into the early morning like a ghost, his shock and fear sealing his silence.

Raghavan locked the door with a heavy slam, heart pounding, returning to the bedroom where Nivi shivered, nude and curled, breasts pressed to her knees, ass curved vulnerably, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. He slid beside her, pulling her into his arms, calming her with a strong, protective hold—chest firm against her back, hand stroking her hair gently, other arm wrapping her waist, fingers splaying on her stomach, thumb circling soothingly near her navel. 

“Shh, Nivi—it’s okay, breathe with me. Ashok’s gone; I handled it. He’s a puppet, loyal to me, terrified now. He won’t breathe a word—trust me, I’ve got him under control.” His voice was steady, reassuring, hand sliding to cup her breast gently, thumb grazing her nipple in a calming, sensual rhythm, body warm and solid against hers, cock still semi-hard against her thigh. Fuck, he’s calming me—strong, in control; Ashok saw my tits, ass, pussy leaking... shame’s burning, but Raghavan’s got it, protecting me like a daddy, she thought, shivering easing, pussy tingling faintly at his touch despite the scare. Revelations deepened: He’s my shield, my fire—owns my body and my fears.

She turned in his arms, breasts pressing his chest, nipples grazing his skin, ass nestling into his hand, voice small but trembling. “He saw me... everything. Naked, spent from us—tits bouncing, pussy wet from squirting. Monday at the office... his cuck eyes, the stares, whispers.” Tears welled again, body shaking, but his hold grounded her, hand squeezing her ass reassuringly, fingers dipping between her cheeks gently, sensual but comforting. 

“How do I walk in, face him? The team—Ashwin, Dinesh—they’ll sense something.”

Raghavan’s eyes darkened with assurance, hand cupping her face, thumb wiping a tear, his cock twitching against her thigh, still hard from their night. “Listen, Nivi—he’s a puppet, nothing more. 

I’ve got leverage; he’s terrified of me, knows I’ll ruin him if he talks. He saw what he’ll never have—your body, your fire, mine to claim. Monday, you walk in bold—ass swaying, tits teasing, like always. Own them, like you’ve owned this week. Ashok’s silence is guaranteed; he’s too weak to cross me.” 

His words gave confidence, his body against hers—chest warm, arms secure—making her relax, pussy pulsing weakly at the protection. Fuck, he’s right—Ashok’s a cuck, burning but silent; Raghavan’s my power, calming the storm, she thought, revelations: This scare bonds us deeper—his control over everything, including me, makes me bolder.

They lay there, bodies entwined, his hand roaming her ass, squeezing gently, fingers tracing her crack sensually, her hand resting on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “We should end it here,” he said, voice low, a mix of tiredness and care. 

“Tonight was... everything—your pussy squirting, your mouth on my cock, cumming without fucking. But it’s dawn, and this scare... let’s rest.” His thumb brushed her nipple, a final naughty touch, making her pussy throb faintly.

She nodded, voice soft, naughty undertone slipping through. “Yeah... intense. First orgasms, first blowjob—fuck, you wrecked me, daddy. But I need to go home.” Her words implied the heat—squirting for his tongue, swallowing his cum—but tiredness won, her body spent. Fuck, calling him daddy—still hot, even now, she thought, pussy leaking a final drop as she stood, dressing slowly, kurti rumpling over her sensitive breasts, leggings chafing her slick thighs.

He called a cab, walking her to the door, towel still around his waist, cock outlined, his hand brushing her ass one last time, sensual but protective. “Be bold Monday, Nivi—own the office. I’ve got you.” His voice was a promise, eyes burning with pride and desire.

The cab ride home took barely twenty minutes, Coimbatore’s early Sunday morning streets quiet, the city barely stirring as dawn broke, golden light creeping over the horizon. Nivi sat in the back, body aching pleasantly, pussy sore but satisfied from her squirting orgasms, nipples tender under the kurti, ass shifting on the seat, damp leggings reminding her of every filthy moment—his tongue wrecking her pussy, lapping her squirt, her mouth choking on his massive cock, swallowing his thick load. Fuck, what a night—orgasms like explosions, submitting like his slut, growing bolder with every act, she thought, mind rambling in a storm of bliss and fear. 

But Ashok—fuck, his eyes on my naked body, tits bouncing, pussy wet from cum. Monday, facing him... his cuck stares were bad enough, sneaking glances at my ass in the office, but now he’s seen it all—me, the boss’s whore, fucked senseless. Her pussy gave a weak pulse, a twisted thrill mixing with shame: His shock, his burning eyes—part of me loves that he’ll jerk off to it, knowing he’ll never touch. But gossip? Whispers? Raghavan’s right—he’s a puppet, silent under threat. I’ll walk in bold—ass swaying, tits teasing, owning their stares like always.

The cab jostled over a speed bump, making her ass shift, the dampness between her thighs chafing, a reminder of her squirting, his cum in her throat. Fuck, I’m marked—his tongue, his load, his protection. Monday, I face Ashok, the team, but I’m not the shy Nivi anymore. I’m fire, evolved, and Raghavan’s got my back—daddy shielding his slut. 

Her clit tingled faintly, thoughts naughty despite the scare: Maybe I tease Ashok silently—let him burn, knowing I’m untouchable, owned by the boss. The cab slowed near her apartment, the gate looming in the early light, neighbors still asleep, no one to see her sneak in. She paid quickly, slipping out, heart racing as she tiptoed through the entrance, shadows hiding her rumpled state—hair tousled from his hands, lips swollen from kisses, kurti creased where his hands grabbed her tits, leggings damp from her pussy’s endless leaking. Fuck, if anyone sees—dawn arrival, looking fucked—it’s scandal, she thought, but the quiet street held her secret, her boldness growing.


She unlocked the apartment door softly, slipping inside around breakfast time, the familiar scent of home—jasmine incense, the faint warmth of dosas cooking—greeting her. Her mother-in-law stood in the kitchen, stirring batter, eyes lifting with a knowing, playful smile as she took in Nivi’s spent look—flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, kurti askew, lips red and swollen, a glow of exhaustion mixed with raw satisfaction. 

“Dear, back at breakfast?” she said, voice gentle but teasing, setting the ladle down, her gaze scanning Nivi’s rumpled form—breasts shifting under the kurti, nipples faintly visible, ass sinking into the couch as she sat beside her, thighs pressing together to hide the dampness. “You look... like you’ve had a night. Everything okay?”

Nivi blushed, heart racing, pussy giving a faint throb at the memory of Raghavan’s tongue, his cock, the orgasms that wrecked her, and Ashok’s shocking stare. Fuck, she sees it—knows I was with him, fucked in every way but the main, submitting like a slut, she thought, a naughty spark mixing with the shame of exposure. Amma’s not judging; she’s cheering my fire, my growth. 

“Yeah... intense,” Nivi replied, voice soft, a sultry undertone slipping through, her ass shifting on the cushion, thighs chafing from the damp leggings. 

“Needed it after... Anand, the marriage mess. Work’s been... changing me.”

The older woman nodded, eyes twinkling with naughty wisdom, hand patting Nivi’s knee, lingering a moment, sensing the heat beneath her words. “Changing, hmm? That boss of yours... he’s been good for you, hasn’t he? Bringing out the woman I always saw buried—bold, glowing, alive.” 

Her tone was playful, indirect, implying more—the office rumors, the ‘daddy’ whispers, perhaps even the night’s filthy acts. Fuck, she knows—suspects the sex, the orgasms, maybe even the dirty talk, she thought, pussy tingling faintly, breasts sensitive as she leaned closer, voice naughty but careful. 

“He’s... supportive. Makes me feel seen, bold. Last night was... freeing—more than I expected.”

Her mother-in-law’s smile deepened, serious now, a touch of caution in her eyes. “Freeing’s good, dear, but dawn arrivals? Neighbors might talk—small city, sharp tongues. You’ve got kids, a life to protect. But this glow... it’s yours, earned. Whoever’s fanning that fire, hold them close, but balance it.” 

Her hand squeezed Nivi’s, warm and knowing, the naughty undertone returning. “Was it... everything you needed?” The question hung, implying the passion, the transformation, the sex—squirting, swallowing, submitting.

Nivi’s face warmed, a naughty grin breaking through, pussy throbbing at the memory of her orgasms, his cum in her throat, his protection against Ashok’s intrusion. “Everything and more,” she said, voice sultry, indirect, implying the filthy night—orgasms, blowjob, growth. 

Fuck, admitting it—squirting for his tongue, swallowing his load—it’s hot, sharing with her, she thought, revelations: She’s my ally, serious about my safety but naughty in her push for my fire. “But I’m exhausted... need rest. Full Sunday ahead.”

The older woman nodded, standing, guiding her to the hallway with a gentle touch. “Rest, dear—shine today, tomorrow. Kids are asleep, dosas ready soon if you’re hungry. You’re stronger now—proud of you.” Her voice was gentle, serious, the naughty glint lingering, as if she sensed the night’s depths—orgasms, exposure, transformation. 

Nivi headed to bed, curling alone under the covers, mind still racing: Ashok’s shock, Raghavan’s shield, my pussy ruined, his cum in my throat. Monday, I walk in bold—ass swaying, tits teasing, owning their stares, even Ashok’s. The chapter ended on her drifting to sleep, the mother-in-law’s knowing smile echoing in the quiet, a testament to Nivi’s fire and the night’s turning point, a full Sunday stretching ahead.



Continues...