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

[nivithenaughty]

Wow! What an update. Keep more coming soon. Can't wait enough. I guess the challenge is going to get even more exciting and turn into a tournament - each round someone would shed a piece of their clothing!

Sorry for disappointing your expectation this is a teaser and her first time in future event like this will be wild... Keep reading and commenting thanks for your support

So far nivi in forest

Ha ha yes so far.... but i am not this big and fat i have a slender but thick body.

[desiass]

Thanks for your dedication to give continuous updates, good erotica

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 86: Farewell and New Beginnings


Nivi stood on the balcony, the noon breeze brushing her skin, the black babydoll lingerie exposed under the open bathrobe, the black stockings clinging to her thighs. 

The smoke from their cigarettes lingered in the air, the garden below quiet except for the distant hum of the resort. Raghavan leaned against the railing, his casual shirt and jeans relaxed, his eyes warm yet teasing as he took a final drag. The clock ticked past 12:50 PM, the 2 PM checkout approaching, the suite’s intimacy still fresh in her mind.

She exhaled, the cigarette trembling in her hand. “That was… a lot to take in,” she said, her voice soft, glancing at the suite door where Vikram waited.

Raghavan nodded, flicking ash over the edge. “I bet it was. So, Nivi, do you want to finish the fucking with Vikram? I can stay out here, give you the space.”

His tone was casual but direct, his eyes searching hers, the cigarette glowing.
Nivi’s heart skipped, her cheeks flushing. 

“No… I can’t if you’re here. My heart won’t accept it.” She paused, her voice steadying. “I’ve already gone way ahead with him. He’s a stranger, and whatever happened is enough.” Her words carried a mix of relief and resolve, the robe fluttering in the breeze.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Fair enough. I won’t push. Let’s head in.” He stubbed out his cigarette, leading her back inside, the balcony door clicking shut behind them.

They stepped into the suite, the air warmer, the scent of sex faint but present. Vikram looked up from the suitcase, his shirt half-buttoned, a shy smile on his face. Raghavan approached him, his voice firm yet kind. “Vikram, thanks for keeping Nivi company and helping with the packing. Sorry for interrupting earlier.” He pulled out a wad of cash, offering it as a tip.

Vikram shook his head, his eyes shifting to Nivi. “No, sir. Meeting you both is the biggest tip of my life. I don’t need this.” His voice was sincere, his hands raised in refusal, a hint of sadness in his gaze.

Nivi’s heart tugged, her eyes softening. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you? Another trek with other guests?” Her voice was gentle, the news sinking in.

He nodded, his smile fading. “Yes, in an hour. This will be our last meeting, I think.” His tone carried regret, the waterfall moment echoing between them.

Nivi stepped forward, unable to hold back. She hugged him tight, her arms around his neck, the bathrobe brushing his chest. “Thanks for everything, Vikram. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.” She pulled back slightly, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, her lips lingering for a moment.

Vikram’s face lit up, then dimmed with a sad smile. “I hope so. Take care, Nivi.” He grabbed his things, gave a small wave, and left the suite, the door closing with a quiet click. The room felt emptier, his absence weighing on her.
Nivi stood still, a lump forming in her throat. “He’s gone,” she whispered, her voice breaking, the sadness creeping in. She turned to the window, the garden a blur through her tears.

Raghavan stepped closer, his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, don’t be sad. He’ll remember you fondly. You’ve grown through this.” His voice was soothing, his touch grounding her.

She wiped her eyes, nodding. “I know. It’s just… hard to let go.” Her gaze dropped to the lingerie peeking from the robe, the black stockings a reminder of the day.

He noticed, his smile turning playful. “Show me that lingerie again. I bought it for you, and you wore it for him?” His tone was mocking, a teasing edge to his words.

Nivi laughed, the mood lightening. “You bought me a lot of things. This won’t be the first time you miss out on seeing every outfit.” Her voice was playful, her hands adjusting the robe.

Raghavan grinned, stepping closer. “True. You can keep each one for the men you’re gonna fuck with. A new outfit for every lover—how’s that sound?” His comment was dirty, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Her breath caught, a thrill rushing through her at the idea. The thought of power through her beauty, choosing lovers, made her pulse quicken. She blushed, her shyness flaring, her hands fidgeting with the robe’s tie.

He noticed her reaction, his grin widening. “Look at you, getting all shy and excited.” He moved behind her, giving her ass a playful slap through the robe, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Such a naughty girl, saving those outfits for your fun,” he mocked, his tone dripping with dirty humor.

Nivi gasped, the slap sending a jolt through her, her cheeks burning. “Raghavan!” she protested, half-laughing, half-embarrassed.

He chuckled, stepping back. “Go take a bath, get ready for checkout. Freshen up that naughty mind.” His voice was commanding, a smile lingering as he pointed to the bathroom.

She nodded, still flustered, and headed to the bathroom, the robe swaying. The tiles were cool under her stocking-clad feet, the mirror reflecting her flushed face. She started the water, the steam rising, when the door creaked open. Raghavan stepped in, his casual clothes contrasting the intimate space, his eyes on her.

“Thought I’d join,” he said, his voice low.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 87: Final Ecstasy


Nivi stood in the bathroom, the steam rising from the hot water filling the air, her black babydoll lingerie damp and clinging to her skin, the black stockings slick against her thighs. The mirror fogged as she adjusted the robe, her heart racing from Raghavan's playful slap and mocking words. The suite's quiet hum faded, the clock nearing 1:00 PM, the 2 PM checkout a looming deadline. The door creaked open, and Raghavan stepped in, his casual shirt and jeans a contrast to the intimate space, his eyes dark with intent.

“Thought I'd join,” he said, his voice low, shutting the door behind him. He stepped closer, the steam curling around them, his hands reaching for her robe. “Let's finish what Vikram started. This is our last fuck of the trip.”

Nivi's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing. “Here? In the shower?” Her voice trembled, but the thrill of his command sparked through her.

He nodded, untying her robe, letting it fall to the tiled floor. “Right here. Every spot.” He guided her to the shower, the glass door sliding open, warm water cascading down. He shed his clothes quickly, his shirt hitting the floor, jeans following, his body lean and ready.

She stepped in, the water soaking the babydoll, the lace turning transparent, her breasts pressing against it, nipples hardening. Raghavan followed, his hands on her waist, pulling her under the spray. “This is for us,” he growled, his lips crashing into hers, the kiss wet and hungry. His tongue claimed her mouth, his hands roaming her wet body, peeling the babydoll up and off, leaving her in the stockings.

He pressed her against the glass wall, the cool surface a shock against her back, the water streaming down her front. “Vikram got you started,” he said, his voice rough, “but I'm finishing it.” He lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist, his dick hard and pressing against her pussy. With one thrust, he entered her, filling her completely, the water amplifying the slick heat.

Nivi moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders, the glass fogging around them. “Oh, Raghavan… yes!” He fucked her hard, each thrust slamming her into the wall, the water splashing, her breasts bouncing with every move. His hands held her hips, guiding her, the stockings dripping as he pounded. “Take it, Nivi,” he grunted, his pace relentless, the bathroom echoing with their sounds.

She came fast, her pussy clenching around him, her body shaking. “I'm cumming!” she cried, the first orgasm hitting hard, her legs trembling as the water washed over her face. Raghavan didn't stop, his dick driving deeper, prolonging her pleasure until she gasped, spent against the glass.

He pulled out, turning her around, bending her over the sink's edge. The mirror reflected her wet body, the stockings clinging, her ass up as he entered her from behind. “Every spot,” he muttered, his hands on her hips, fucking her with slow, deep thrusts. The new angle hit new spots, her moans louder, the water dripping from the shower onto the tiles.

“More,” she begged, her hands bracing on the sink, the cold porcelain a contrast to his heat. He obliged, his pace quickening, his balls slapping against her, the sound wet and wild. His fingers found her clit, rubbing circles, pushing her toward another peak. “Cum again for me,” he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

Nivi's body obeyed, her second orgasm crashing over her, her pussy pulsing around his dick. “Oh god, yes!” she screamed, her legs buckling, the sink holding her up as the pleasure ripped through her. Raghavan groaned, holding her steady, his thrusts slowing as she recovered, the water still running in the background.

He lifted her, carrying her back to the shower, laying her on the tiled floor under the spray. “One more time,” he said, positioning himself between her legs, the stockings soaked and slipping. He entered her again, missionary now, his eyes locked on hers, the water pouring over them both. “This is our last, Nivi. After this trip, you take charge.”

She wrapped her legs around him, her hands on his back, pulling him deeper. “Tell me,” she gasped, her body rocking with his thrusts, the tiles slick beneath her.

He fucked her steadily, his voice low and firm. “Your beauty is your power. Back at the office, without me there, take control. Use it on the clients—keep them in your grip. But don't rush. Gossip will start, and the seniors might rival you. Let them rely on you instead.” His words mixed with his rhythm, each thrust punctuating his advice.

Nivi listened, her body responding, her pussy tight around him. “I will,” she moaned, her eyes grateful, taking his dick like a good girl, the pleasure and guidance blending. “Keep going… tell me more.” Her voice was eager, her hands urging him on.

He leaned down, his lips near her ear, his thrusts deepening. “Charm the clients first. Make them need you. The seniors will follow, jealous but dependent. Build your power slow—let it grow.” His dick hit her spot, her moans growing louder, the water splashing around them.

She nodded, her body trembling. “Yes… I'll do it. For you.” The third orgasm built, her pussy clenching, her breath ragged. “Cum with me,” she pleaded, her eyes locked on his.

Raghavan's pace quickened, his groans matching hers. “Together, Nivi. Take it all.” His dick swelled, and with a final thrust, they came together, her pussy spasming around him, his cum filling her as they cried out. “Fuck, yes!” she screamed, the pleasure overwhelming, her body shaking under the water.

He held her, their breaths syncing, the shower washing their release away. She looked up, her face soft with gratitude. “I'll do whatever you say. I'll be your everything—here, at work, everywhere.” Her voice was a promise, her submission complete, her body still humming from the climax.

They stayed under the water, the steam thick, the bathroom quiet except for the drip of the shower. The chapter ended there, their connection sealed in the wet, intimate space.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 88: Road to Power


Nivi stood under the shower's fading spray, her body still humming from the intense sex with Raghavan, the water washing away the evidence of their passion. The bathroom tiles were slick, the steam thinning as the clock ticked past 1:15 PM on Monday, September 08, 2025. Her black stockings lay discarded on the floor, the babydoll lingerie crumpled nearby, her skin flushed and sensitive. Raghavan stepped out first, grabbing a towel, his casual shirt and jeans back on, his eyes lingering on her with a satisfied smile.

“Let's get ready for checkout,” he said, handing her a towel. “It's almost 2.” His voice was gentle, the authority still present, guiding her out of the intimate haze.

Nivi nodded, wrapping the towel around herself, the warmth comforting. She moved to the bedroom, the suite now orderly with Vikram's packing, the air carrying a faint musk. She opened her suitcase, pulling out a pair of black leggings and a simple green kurta—comfortable yet flattering, hugging her curves after the wild morning. She slipped them on, the fabric soft against her skin, the leggings accentuating her hips, the kurta flaring slightly. Her hair was damp, tied back loosely, her reflection in the mirror showing a woman transformed.

Raghavan watched her dress, then wheeled over a small trolley. “These are for you,” he said, patting the bag filled with the outfits he'd bought—dresses, lingerie, the babydoll set. “Take it all.” His tone was generous, a hint of pride in his eyes.

She smiled, touching the trolley. “Thank you. It's… a lot.” Her voice was grateful, wheeling it toward the door, the weight of his gifts sinking in.

They gathered their things, the suite's silence a contrast to the morning's passion. Raghavan checked the room, then led her to the reception, the trolley rolling behind. The checkout process was quick—staff smiling, the bill settled, the resort's lobby buzzing with departing guests. They stepped outside, the afternoon sun warm, the car waiting to take them back to Coimbatore.

In the car, the engine hummed, the road stretching ahead, the resort fading in the rearview mirror. Raghavan turned to her, his voice serious. “Now, about the office. You need to take control, Nivi. I won't be there daily—only once a month. Here's how to handle it.”

She nodded, listening intently, her hands resting on her lap. “Tell me.”

He leaned back, his tone firm. “Start with the seniors. Mohan's already surrendered to you—use that. He's weak for your charm, so keep him close. Then there's Rajendar, the senior auditor. He's older than me, near retirement. His weaknesses are drinking and dogs—play to that. Offer him a drink, ask about his pets, and he'll soften.”

Nivi tilted her head, absorbing it. “Drinking and dogs? I can manage that.” Her voice was confident, the kurta shifting as she shifted.

“Good,” he continued. “The women coworkers are gossip factories. Befriend them—lunch, chats—or they'll talk behind your back, spreading negativity. The boys gang—Ashwin, Dinesh, Ashok—is already in your pocket. Juniors and interns won't be an issue; they'll follow the lead. Key clients are handled by Mohan and Rajendar now. Meet them, act helpful. Once they see you in person, you'll know how to take control.”

She nodded, her mind racing. “So, pass Mohan and Rajendar to reach the clients. Got it.” Her hands clasped, the plan taking shape.

He smiled, his hand on hers. “Smart girl. I'll visit once a month, and if possible, I'll arrange trips for you. But not now—seniors might complain to my partner, raise questions. Conquer the office first, build your power base.” His voice was guiding, the car's hum steady.

Nivi looked at him, her eyes thoughtful. “I'll do it. But… why me? Why did you choose me?” Her voice was curious, her heart pounding.

Raghavan paused, his gaze softening. “I've loved you since before your marriage, Nivi. You were young, full of promise—I didn't want to spoil your life then. Now, with Anand's neglect, I see a second chance. You needed a new life, and I decided to make you successful.” His words were raw, honest, the car's interior quiet.

She felt a lump in her throat, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Then, playfully, she added, “Now I'm already spoiled, so you don't need to feel bad for spoiling me more.” Her tone was light, a smile breaking through.

He laughed, patting her hand. “You've got lots to face. This is just the start.” His voice was warm, the road winding toward the city.

They drove in silence for a while, the Coimbatore skyline approaching. Raghavan turned off at a kids' shop, the sign bright with toy displays. “Let's get something for your sons,” he said, parking the car. They stepped out, the afternoon air fresh, and entered the store. Nivi picked out a toy car for her eldest and a stuffed dinosaur for the younger, Raghavan paying with a smile.

Back in the car, they continued home, the toys on the backseat. The journey was smooth, the sun dipping lower, the clock nearing 4:30 PM. They reached her modest apartment, the street familiar with its coconut groves and street food stalls. Nivi gathered her things, the trolley and toys in hand, and turned to him.

“Thanks for everything,” she said, her voice soft, stepping out of the car. The door closed behind her.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 89: Homecoming and Reflections


Nivi stepped into her modest apartment, the trolley of outfits and the bag of toys heavy in her hands, the familiar scent of coconut groves and sambar greeting her like an old friend. The clock read 4:45 PM on Sunday, September 07, 2025, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow across the living room. 

The weekend at the resort felt like a thrilling escape—filled with power, passion, and bold choices—now colliding with the quiet rhythm of home. Back to reality, she thought, her green kurta and black leggings a return to the everyday after the daring lingerie she'd worn, the trolley's contents a secret she'd explored during the trip.

The door creaked as she set the trolley down, its wheels snagging on the rug, and her two boys—five and three—rushed to her, their laughter echoing. 

“Mama!” they shouted, hugging her legs, their small arms tight around her. She knelt, a smile breaking through, the weekend's weight lifting. 

“Look at these,” she said, pulling out the toy car and stuffed dinosaur Raghavan had bought. Their eyes lit up, the eldest zooming the car with a vroom, the younger clutching the dinosaur with a grin.

Her mother-in-law stepped from the kitchen, her saree swishing, her face a mix of relief and curiosity, a playful glint in her eye. Her gaze swept over Nivi's kurta, the trolley, the subtle glow on her skin, as if reading a hidden story. She's onto me, Nivi thought, her pulse quickening with a blend of pride and nervousness.

The boys settled on the rug, their play a noisy blur, and Nivi moved to her bedroom, the door's creak a familiar sound. Her mother-in-law followed, closing it with a soft click. Nivi turned, her emotions spilling, and hugged her tight. 

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, the weekend's wildness—Vikram, Raghavan—gnawing at her conscience.

The older woman chuckled, patting her back. 

“Sorry for what, you little minx? If it's for that sparkle in your eyes or some naughty fun, no need to say sorry.” Her voice was teasing, her arms warm, the saree brushing Nivi's kurta.

Nivi pulled back, her cheeks flushing. 

“I forgot this life in one weekend. I feel guilty coming back—like I stepped too far.” Her words rushed out, the resort's freedom clashing with the room's calm, her hands twisting the kurta's hem.

Her mother-in-law sat on the bed, patting beside her, her eyes twinkling. 

“You deserve a break, Nivi. I played the good widow all these years, but I wish I'd tasted some spice myself. You? You're alive now—don't hold back for me.” Her voice held a hint of regret, her hands resting on her lap.

Nivi sat, her heart stirring. 

“You think I should keep going?” Her voice was tentative, the leggings feeling snug after the weekend's boldness.

“Damn right,” she said, nodding with a grin. 

“Anand drowned in his bottle, blind to your fire. I see you as my daughter now—go chase what makes you happy.” Her tone was proud, her eyes warm with affection.

Nivi smiled, the guilt easing. 

“I feel that power now. Raghavan showed me.” Her voice grew firm, the weekend's lessons surfacing.

Her mother-in-law leaned in, her voice dropping to a naughty whisper. 

“Power, huh? That beauty will pull men like moths. Be smart, but use it to rule. Anand's loss is your gain.” Her warning was playful, her hand squeezing Nivi's.

Nivi nodded, her confidence rising. 

“I will. My beauty's my edge—I'll lead with care.” Her posture straightened, the kurta shifting with her breath.

The older woman tilted her head, eyeing the trolley. 

“Anything to wash, dear? That bag looks full.” Her tone was curious, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.

Nivi's face heated, shyness flooding her. What will she think of the outfits? she thought, her hands hovering over the trolley. 

“Um… let me show you,” she said, kneeling to unzip it. She pulled out the contents—dresses, the babydoll lingerie, stockings—her cheeks burning as she remembered wearing them. She separated the worn items, the babydoll and a lace bra, holding them up. 

“These are worn—need washing. The rest are new.”

Her mother-in-law's eyes widened, then sparkled with approval. 

“Look at you, getting bold! That boss of yours is lucky to dress you up like this. Anand never had a clue.” Her voice was praising, a hint of envy in her laugh.

Nivi blushed deeper, folding the worn lingerie. 

“Raghavan picked them. I tried some at the resort.” Her voice was shy, the memory of Vikram's touch flashing.

The older woman took the worn items, holding the babydoll up with a grin. 

“Naughty girl, wearing this for someone else? Rest that sexy body now—you've been busy.” Her mock was playful, her tone dripping with mischief as she waved the lace.

Nivi laughed, the tension breaking. 

“Only if you say so, but I might dream of more fun.” Her reply was cheeky, matching the naughtiness, her eyes glinting.

The conversation flowed, the mother-in-law adding more. 

“Anand's a fool,” she said, her voice firm. 

“He let you go dull. This boss—he sees your spark. Keep it.” Her hand rested on Nivi's knee, the touch reassuring.

Nivi nodded, her resolve growing. 

“I will. Raghavan's plan for work—it's clear.” Her voice was steady, the room's quiet a comfort.

Her mother-in-law smirked. 

“Work, huh? That beauty will turn heads. Watch out, but lead them. I stayed quiet—don't you.” Her advice was sharp, her eyes knowing.

They chatted further, the older woman sharing. 

“I missed my chances,” she said, her tone soft. 

“You've got yours—grab them, but stay sharp.” Her hand squeezed Nivi's, the connection deepening.

Nivi smiled. 

“I'll be smart. With your support, and his.” Her voice was confident, the trolley a silent promise.

Her mother-in-law chuckled naughtily. 

“Support, yes. But rest that wild side—you've earned it.” Her wink was bold, the saree swaying.

Nivi grinned, teasing back. 

“Only if you dream of spice with me.” Her reply was playful, the mood light.

The talk continued, the older woman adding depth. 

“Anand's gone,” she said. 

“You're my girl now—live loud, but safe.” Her voice was warm, the afternoon fading.

Nivi absorbed it. 

“I will. With care, like you said.” Her promise was strong, the room's shadows growing.

As the sun set, the boys' play quieted, their toys scattered. Nivi lay on her bed, the kurta soft, her thoughts drifting to Raghavan—his guidance, his love—and her mother-in-law's naughty support. A new life, she mused, the power and control settling in. She was ready to face whatever came, the weekend's fire fueling her dreams as she drifted to sleep, the night wrapping her in possibility.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 90: Back to Routine


Nivi woke up, the morning light filtering through the curtains, her body heavy with a tiredness that hadn't hit yesterday. The weekend's fun—trekking, wild sex with Vikram and Raghavan—had left its mark. Her legs ached, sore from the climbs and the passionate nights, her pussy burning and itching as an aftermath, the sensation unfamiliar yet persistent. 

Her whole body throbbed with dull pains, a reminder of the resort's intensity. She stretched, wincing, and slid out of bed, the green kurta from last night crumpled beside her.

She shuffled to the living room, the familiar creak of the floor underfoot, and saw her mother-in-law at the stove, the sizzle of dosa filling the air. The kids, dressed for college, bounced around with their backpacks, their toy car and dinosaur in hand. “Morning,” Nivi mumbled, her voice hoarse, the soreness making her move slowly.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” her mother-in-law teased, flipping a dosa, her saree swaying. “Kids, get ready—the bus is almost here.” The boys hugged Nivi quick, their energy a contrast to her stiffness, and dashed out as the bus honked.

Nivi watched them go, then limped to the bathroom, the hot shower calling. The water cascaded over her, easing the ache in her muscles, the steam soothing her burning pussy. She scrubbed gently, the itching fading, her mind replaying the weekend's passion. After drying off, she joined her mother-in-law for breakfast, a small plate of dosa and chutney waiting.

The older woman eyed her, a naughty grin spreading. “Look at you, walking like you've been rode hard. Those fucks must've left a mark—literally.” Her voice was playful, her eyes flicking to the faint bruises on Nivi's neck.

Nivi blushed, adjusting her kurta. “Stop it! The trekking was tough, and… well, you know.” She laughed, the chutney spicy on her tongue, the marks tingling under her touch.

Her mother-in-law chuckled, leaning closer. “Trekking, huh? Those marks tell a different story—someone's been busy. Rest that sexy body, girl.” Her tone was mischievous, the kitchen warm with their laughter.

After eating, Nivi grabbed her phone, dialing Raghavan. “Hey, you reached safe?” she asked, her voice soft, the connection crackling.

“Yeah, just got in,” he replied, his tone warm. “You okay?” His concern made her smile.

“Fine, just sore. Talk later?” She hung up, feeling grounded, then turned to getting ready. Following her mother-in-law's advice, she dabbed foundation on the neck bruises, adding a touch of makeup to hide the marks, the mirror reflecting a polished look. She chose a plain blue kurta and black leggings, comfortable yet flattering, the weekend's boldness tucked away.

She wasn't up for the crowded bus, her legs protesting, so she hailed an auto. The ride was bumpy, the city's noise filling the air, and she arrived at the office by late morning, the building buzzing. The women coworkers—Saritha and Lakshmi—noticed her walk immediately, the slight limp drawing their eyes.

Saritha pulled her aside near the tea station, her voice low. “Nivi, what's with that walk? Who's the lucky one making you strut like that?” Her tone was curious, a smirk playing on her lips.

Lakshmi giggled, leaning in. “Spill it—did someone give you a wild night?” Their eyes sparkled with gossip.

Nivi grinned, keeping it naughty but vague. “Just the trekking, girls. Wore me out—legs are killing me.” Her laugh was smooth, deflecting their probes, the kurta shifting as she moved.

The boys gang—Ashwin, Dinesh, and Ashok—walked in, catching the tail end. “Trekking?” Ashwin boomed, hands on his hips. “You went without us, Nivi? Not fair!”

Dinesh nodded, smirking. “Yeah, next time we're joining. No solo adventures!” Ashok smiled shyly, agreeing, their friendly scolding warming the room.

The day rolled on with usual work—spreadsheets, client calls, the office hum familiar. Her walk eased as she settled, the soreness fading into the background. By evening, as she packed up, Ashwin and Mohan approached. “Need a drop?” Ashwin offered, his grin wide.

Mohan nodded, then frowned. “Wait, I've got an urgent meeting. Ashwin, you take her.” His voice was apologetic, rushing off.

Ashwin shrugged, leading her to his car. “Lucky me,” he teased, opening the door. The drive was short, the city lights flickering, the air cool.

He glanced at her, smirking. “That trek must've been fun—you're glowing. Any hot guides?” His tone was flirty, his eyes twinkling.

Nivi laughed, playing along. “Maybe one or two. You'd have loved the view.” Her voice was light, the flirt keeping it friendly, the kurta brushing her thighs.

They chatted about work, his jokes easing her, and he dropped her near her street. “See you tomorrow,” he said, waving as she stepped out, the day ending with a normal calm, her mind on the power ahead.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 91: Building Foundations

Nivi woke to the soft glow of morning, her body still heavy from the weekend’s wild ride, the echoes of trekking and passion lingering in her muscles. A day had passed since her return, the resort’s intensity fading into memory, her legs sore, her pussy sensitive but no longer burning, the aftermath settling into a dull ache. She stretched, wincing, and rose from bed, slipping into a blue kurta that hugged her curves, pairing it with black leggings for the office. The apartment was quiet, the kids still asleep, the scent of yesterday’s sambar faint in the air.

The day began with the usual rush. She waved the boys off to college, their backpacks bouncing, and headed to work. The office buzzed with its familiar rhythm—keyboards clicking, the tea station’s clatter, coworkers’ chatter. Mohan, the senior who’d once fallen for her charm, tried to dig for details during a break, his eyes lingering as he leaned close. “Nivi, you’ve got a new glow—spill the secret,” he said, his voice low, a suggestive smile playing.

She met his gaze, keeping her composure, her voice steady. “Just keeping busy, Mohan. No secrets here.” She shifted back, the blue kurta swaying, asserting control with a calm smile. He nodded, retreating, but his probing lingered in her thoughts. He’s fishing, she mused, tucking it away as she watched the office.

Raghavan’s plan haunted her mind—take control with her beauty, manage seniors and clients. She observed closely, her eyes tracking Ashwin’s loud laughs, Dinesh’s quick wit, Ashok’s shy nods, the women’s gossip huddles, and the juniors’ eager faces. Nothing clicked—no clear move to start her ascent. The days blurred into generic tasks—spreadsheets, calls, routine reports—the power she’d felt at the resort a quiet ember. She flirted lightly with the boys gang, accepting their tea with a wink, but her focus remained sharp, waiting for an opening.

At home, evenings brought a different pace. After returning, she changed into a soft cotton nighty, the fabric loose and comforting against her sore skin, the blue kurta and leggings swapped for rest. Her mother-in-law noticed her stiff walk, a naughty grin spreading as she prepared dinner. “Still strutting like you’ve been ridden, huh?” she teased, setting a hot bag on the table, the warmth rising. The kids played nearby, their toys clattering, the room alive with their noise.

Nivi laughed, sinking onto the couch. “The trekking wore me out,” she said, her tone playful, masking the truth. Her legs throbbed, the weekend’s passion etched into her muscles.

Her mother-in-law knelt, her saree brushing the floor, and began massaging Nivi’s calves. “Let’s ease that, you cheeky thing,” she said, her hands firm, kneading the soreness with skilled fingers. The heat from her palms soothed the ache, her touch lingering, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Those legs saw more than trails, didn’t they?”

Nivi blushed, relaxing into the massage. “Maybe a little extra action,” she admitted, her voice low, the tingles spreading as her mother-in-law worked higher, near her thighs. The hot bag followed, placed on her calves, the warmth seeping deep, easing the tension.

The older woman chuckled, her hands moving to Nivi’s feet. “Extra action, eh? You’re a wild one now. This’ll fix you up.” Her tone was naughty, her fingers pressing into the arches, the therapy a mix of care and tease.

Nivi sighed, the pain fading. “Feels good. Thanks.” Her voice was grateful, the closeness growing, the nighty riding up slightly as she shifted.

Over the week, their bond deepened. The mother-in-law’s massages became a ritual—each evening, she’d rub Nivi’s legs with oil, the scent of coconut filling the room, her hands strong yet gentle. “You’re healing fast,” she’d say, her voice warm, adding the hot bag for extra relief. The kids played or slept, the apartment a haven of recovery.

They chatted more, the playfulness a thread. “Those marks on your neck—trekking scratches?” her mother-in-law teased one night, dabbing oil near a bruise, her grin wicked.

Nivi smirked, adjusting the nighty. “Maybe a rough path,” she quipped, her cheeks warm, the oil soothing the skin.

Her mother-in-law laughed. “Rough path, my foot. You’re glowing from something naughtier.” Her tone was light, the massage a shared secret, their friendship blossoming.

The soreness ebbed by midweek, the weekend’s toll lifting. The massages worked wonders, the hot bags easing the deepest aches, her pussy’s sensitivity fading into a pleasant memory. Nivi felt stronger, her body recovering, her mind clearing for the office challenges ahead. Her mother-in-law’s care—part nurturing, part teasing—built a new closeness, a support she hadn’t expected.

At work, the days stayed routine, but her vigilance grew. Mohan’s probes lessened, her control over him solidifying with a firm smile or a redirected topic. The office hummed along, her eyes still searching for Raghavan’s plan, but the generic flow continued. The boys gang flirted—Ashwin offering extra tea, Dinesh joking about her “trekking glow”—and she played along, her power simmering beneath the surface.

By week’s end, Nivi’s body felt renewed, the aftermath gone, her spirit lifted by her mother-in-law’s hands and words. The apartment’s warmth, the kids’ laughter, and the naughty bond with her mother-in-law anchored her, readying her for the next step in Raghavan’s vision.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 92: New Plans and Bonds

Nivi sank into the couch on Friday night, the apartment quiet with the kids asleep, the soft hum of the ceiling fan stirring the air. Her body felt lighter, the weekend’s soreness eased by her mother-in-law’s week-long massages, though a faint ache lingered in her thighs from the trekking and passion. She wore a loose cotton nighty, the fabric brushing her skin, a comfort after days in kurtas. The trolley of outfits sat in the corner, its contents familiar from her resort trials—the jeggings, dresses, lingerie—a silent reminder of the bold choices she’d made. Her mind buzzed with Raghavan’s absence, the office’s routine, and the frustration with the seniors.

She grabbed her phone, dialing Raghavan, the ring cutting through the stillness. “Hey, it’s me,” she said when he answered, her voice soft. “I’ve been trying to overtake the seniors at work, like you planned. But Rajendar—he’s always locked in his room, working non-stop. No breaks, brings tea from home, drinks it there. Leaves last, comes first. I asked for a hint, and you said he feeds dogs in the park every Saturday. I’ve got nothing else.”

Raghavan’s voice crackled, warm but distracted. “Good thinking, Nivi. Rajendar’s tough, but the park’s your shot. I’m flying to Australia tomorrow for a new business idea. Out of reach for a while, but text me anytime, okay?”

Her chest tightened, the distance stinging. “Australia? How long?” Her voice wavered, the weekend’s closeness fading.

“A few weeks, maybe more,” he said. “Depends on the deal. I’ll miss you, Nivi.” His words carried tenderness.

She swallowed, her eyes misty. “Miss you too, daddy,” she whispered, the nickname a blend of affection and submission.

He chuckled, low and warm. “Miss you too, baby. Take care.” The call ended, leaving her with a hollow ache, the room feeling lonelier.

Her mother-in-law walked in, her saree swishing, carrying a cup of chai, her face soft with concern. “Was that Raghavan?” she asked, sitting beside Nivi, handing her the cup. After a week of massages and talks, they were like friends, their bond built on shared secrets and laughter.

Nivi nodded, sipping the chai, the spice warming her throat. “Yeah. He’s off to Australia—out of reach. I miss him already.” Her voice was quiet, the nighty shifting as she leaned back.

The older woman patted her hand, her touch comforting. “Don’t mope, dear. He’ll be back, and you’ve got that fire now. Those office admirers will keep you busy—lucky girl.” Her tone was consoling, her eyes kind with a playful edge.

Nivi laughed, the tension easing. “Admirers? Just flirty coworkers. It’s not the same.” Her voice was light, but the ache lingered, the chai steaming in her hand.

Her mother-in-law grinned, nudging her. “Flirty or not, they’re there. Be careful with the older ones—trickier than the young ones. What’s this plan with the seniors?” Her tone was curious, her hand resting on Nivi’s knee, recalling their talks about work.

Nivi sighed, setting the cup down. “Raghavan wants me to take control. Rajendar’s a challenge—I’ve got no in yet. The park hint’s all I have, so we’ll go tomorrow and see.” Her voice was determined, a plan forming, the chai’s warmth spreading.

The older woman nodded, her grin turning mischievous. “Smart move. Older men like him can be stubborn—watch your step.” Her tone was playful, her fingers squeezing Nivi’s knee lightly.

They chatted more, the closeness a comfort. Her mother-in-law shifted, grabbing the coconut oil and a hot bag, kneeling to massage Nivi’s legs. “What did you do there to make these legs this sore?” she asked, her hands working the oil into Nivi’s calves, firm and skilled. “Just trekking, or something else?” Her voice was casual but probing, a naughty glint in her eye.

Nivi blushed, her cheeks warming, the massage sending tingles up her legs. “Um… mostly trekking,” she mumbled, her voice shy, the nighty riding up as she shifted.

The older woman chuckled, her hands moving higher. “Mostly? Don’t tell me the shy parts—spill what doesn’t make you squirm, you cheeky thing.” Her tone was playful, her fingers kneading the soreness, the hot bag warming Nivi’s thighs.

Nivi hesitated, then laughed. “Okay, no shy stuff. The trekking was tough—hills and all. That’s it for now.” Her voice was light, dodging the wilder moments, the oil soothing her skin.

Her mother-in-law smirked, resuming the massage. “Tough hills, huh? Keep your secrets—I’ll get them out later.” Her mock was teasing, the bond strengthening in the quiet night.


Nivi settled into the bed, the soft mattress sinking under her weight, the kids asleep in their own bed across the room, their gentle snores a comforting hum. The nighty clung lightly to her skin, the room dim with the lamp turned low, the trolley of outfits a shadowy figure in the corner. Her legs still carried a faint ache from the week’s recovery, the massage earlier soothing but leaving her mind restless. She lay back, staring at the ceiling, and a smile crept onto her face as she recalled the resort restaurant moment—the staff’s wide-eyed offer for an Instagram promotional post.

Her mother-in-law, nestled beside her like a close friend after a week of bonding, noticed the smile. “What’s that grin about, you sneaky thing?” she asked, her voice a playful whisper, her saree dbangd loosely over the blanket.

Nivi turned her head, her cheeks warming. “Just remembering something from the resort. At the restaurant, a staff thought I was an Instagram influencer because of my outfit. He even asked for a promotional post—it was so awkward!” Her laugh was soft, the memory tickling her.

The older woman propped herself on an elbow, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “An influencer, eh? Those outfits I washed after your trip—were those just for outside the room, or did you wear them somewhere else too?” Her tone was teasing, her hand resting on Nivi’s arm, the closeness of their friendship evident.

Nivi blushed deeper, shifting under the blanket. “Outside too,” she admitted, her voice low, the nighty riding up slightly. “I wore them out—got bold with it.”

Her mother-in-law sighed, a mock pout forming. “Bold, huh? I missed seeing you like that. All I got were the dirty clothes to wash—no live show!” Her tone was playful, a hint of sadness in her laugh, her fingers tapping Nivi’s arm.

Nivi grinned, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. “I’ve got photos! Let me show you.” She scrolled to the gallery, hiding the intimate shots with Raghavan, the wet waterfall looks, and the lingerie clicks, keeping it safe. “Here’s the first day at the buffet—I wore shorts and a string tank top, kinda revealing but comfy. Then trekking, I had denim shorts and a tied shirt, practical but sexy. The second day was tight jeggings and a sports bra—super bold.” She handed the phone over, her heart racing with the reveal.

Her mother-in-law took the phone, her eyes widening as she flipped through. “Shorts and that tank top—look at those legs! The denim shorts and tied shirt? You’re a natural. And those jeggings with the sports bra—damn, girl, you’re a knockout!” Her voice was full of admiration, her fingers zooming in on the jeggings shot, the outfit hugging Nivi’s curves.

Nivi watched, her shyness fading into pride. “The tank top showed more than I planned, but the jeggings felt daring—Raghavan loved it.” Her voice was light, the memory warming her, the nighty shifting as she leaned closer.

The older woman handed the phone back, her grin naughty. “Loved it, huh? No wonder you’re glowing. So, that influencer idea—what’s the plan?” Her tone was eager, her hand returning to Nivi’s arm.

Nivi settled back, thinking. “Raghavan pushed it after that restaurant moment. I’m tempted, but how do I start?” Her voice was curious, the conversation flowing naturally.

Her mother-in-law nodded, her expression turning thoughtful. “Don’t jump into the sexy looks right away. Start with modest stuff—your kurtas, work outfits. You’re stunning in traditional wear, and it’ll build a solid base. Once you’ve got followers, start revealing skin—those jeggings, the shorts. You’ll go viral when they see the switch.” Her guidance was detailed, her hand patting Nivi’s leg.

Nivi tilted her head, impressed. “Modest first? That makes sense. Then the bold stuff later?” Her voice was intrigued, her mind picturing the plan.

“Exactly,” she said, nodding. “Post daily—kurtas with a smile, work looks with a caption like ‘Office Day.’ When you hit a few thousand followers, drop the jeggings pic. The contrast will explode your reach.” Her tone was strategic, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Nivi laughed, her confidence growing. “You’ve got a youthful mind for this. You could be my manager if I get famous!” Her tone was playful, the bond deepening.

Her mother-in-law cackled, nudging her. “Manager? I’d run the show! Picture it—me calling the shots, you strutting for the camera.” Her reply was cheeky, her laugh filling the room.

They talked more, the conversation stretching. “What about trolls?” Nivi asked, leaning on her elbow. “How do I handle them?”

“Block them fast,” she advised. “Keep it positive. Add hashtags—#IndianStyle, #WorkVibes. Fans love engagement.” Her tips were practical, her hand tracing Nivi’s knee.

Nivi nodded, excited. “Engagement? Like replying to comments?”

“Yes,” she said. “Answer a few—‘Thanks for the love!’ or ‘New look soon.’ It builds loyalty.” Her voice was encouraging, the night deepening.

The chat flowed, the older woman adding details. “Start a theme—‘Week in Looks.’ Mix modest and bold as you grow.” Her suggestions were creative, the room growing cozy.

Nivi grinned. “A theme? You’re a genius. Let’s sleep on it.” They shifted under the blanket, the kids’ snores a soft rhythm, and lay side by side. Nivi’s mind swirled with Raghavan’s absence, the Instagram plan, her mother-in-law’s savvy support. She felt ready, the night’s closeness fueling her, and drifted off, the room wrapping them in friendship.


Nivi woke to the gentle clatter of dishes, the morning light spilling through the kitchen window, her body rested but still carrying a faint echo of the week’s intensity. The cotton nighty clung softly to her skin, the soreness from the weekend’s trekking and passion now a distant memory, thanks to her mother-in-law’s care. She slid out of bed, the kids’ soft breathing from their room a quiet backdrop, and joined her mother-in-law at the table, where a plate of steaming idlis and sambar waited.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” her mother-in-law said, her saree swishing as she set down a cup of chai, a playful grin on her face. “Remember our chat last night? That Instagram idea—did you open an account yet?” Her tone was teasing, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Nivi laughed, taking a bite of idli, the spice warming her mouth. “We only talked last night! I haven’t had time.” Her voice was light, the chai soothing as she sipped.

The older woman shook her head, leaning closer. “No delaying, girl. Decisions like this—go for it now. Create it while we eat, let’s start today!” Her voice was firm, a naughty edge to her encouragement, her hand tapping the table.

Nivi grinned, setting the idli down, and grabbed her phone. “Alright, you win.” She opened the Instagram app, her fingers tapping as she set up a profile—username “NiviGlow,” a simple bio: “Embracing life, one look at a time.” The process was quick, the screen lighting up with a blank feed. “Done,” she said, showing her mother-in-law the new account.

Her mother-in-law clapped, her eyes gleaming. “Perfect! Now, let’s get that first click. That kurta and leggings—show off that beauty modestly.” Her tone was eager, pulling Nivi toward the balcony.

Nivi followed, still chewing, the blue kurta hugging her curves, the black leggings accentuating her legs. The balcony overlooked the morning bustle, the coconut groves swaying, the air fresh with dew. “Here?” she asked, her voice playful, adjusting her hair.

“Yes, right there,” her mother-in-law said, grabbing Nivi’s phone. “Stand by the railing, hands on hips—look natural but stunning.” She positioned Nivi, the kurta flaring slightly in the breeze, the leggings showing her shape without revealing too much.

Nivi posed, a shy smile on her face, the morning light catching her glow. Her mother-in-law snapped a few shots—Nivi leaning against the railing, turning sideways to highlight her figure, then a candid laugh as she adjusted her kurta. “Got it,” the older woman said, reviewing the pics. “You look gorgeous—modest yet sexy. Post it now.”

Nivi took the phone, scrolling through the images. She picked one where she stood with a soft smile, the kurta’s color popping, the leggings outlining her legs subtly. She added a caption: “New beginnings ? #DailyLook #IndianStyle,” and hit post, her heart racing as the first image went live. “There,” she said, showing her mother-in-law. “My first step.”

Her mother-in-law nodded, proud. “Beautiful start. Keep it simple—followers will love that glow. Now, off to the shops—get those groceries.” Her tone was practical, but her grin hinted at more fun ahead.

Nivi finished her idli, the sambar’s taste lingering, and called to her elder son. “Hey, want to come with me?” The five-year-old ran in, his toy car in hand, his face lighting up. “Yes, Mama!”

She grabbed a bag, the kurta and leggings still fresh, and they stepped out, the morning sun warm on her skin. The walk to the market was short, the street alive with vendors, the scent of fresh spices and fruits filling the air. Her son skipped beside her, clutching her hand, his chatter a distraction from the new Instagram post buzzing in her mind.

At the market, she navigated the stalls, picking up rice, vegetables, and spices, her son helping carry small bags. The vendors smiled, some glancing at her kurta-clad figure, but she focused on the task, her confidence growing. “Let’s get mangoes too,” she said, her son nodding eagerly, his energy infectious.

They haggled playfully, the elder son mimicking her bargaining, and filled their bags, the weight a comfort. The walk home was slower, the groceries heavy, but the bond with her son warmed her. Back at the apartment, she unpacked, the kitchen bustling again, her mother-in-law’s voice calling from the balcony about the post’s early likes.

Nivi smiled, setting the mangoes down, her mind on the day ahead—grocery chores, the Instagram start, and the quiet power she felt. The morning stretched into midday, the routine grounding her, yet the resort’s lessons lingered, ready to shape her next move.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 93: Park Encounter

Nivi finished her lunch, the simple meal of rice and rasam settling warmly in her stomach, the apartment quiet with the midday sun filtering through the windows. The kids, full and sleepy, tugged at her nighty, their eyes heavy from the morning's play. “Nap time,” she said, her voice soft, leading them to the bed. They curled up beside her, their small bodies warm, and she drifted off, the week's routine a gentle lull, the faint ache in her thighs a reminder of the weekend's adventures.

The nap was short but refreshing, the kids stirring first with giggles, the afternoon light slanting across the room. Nivi stretched, feeling the energy return, and stepped into the living room, where her mother-in-law stirred a pot on the stove. The older woman looked up, a knowing smile on her face. “Nap good? Remember our plan—the park visit for that Rajendar fellow. Time to get ready.”

Nivi nodded, the conversation from the previous night fresh in her mind. “Right, the park. Let’s go after the kids wake fully.” Her voice was determined, the blue kurta from earlier swapped for a light-colored one—pale pink, soft and flowing—paired with shimmering leggings that caught the light, subtle but flattering, hugging her curves without being overt. She adjusted the dupatta, the fabric dbanging elegantly, ready for the casual outing.

Her mother-in-law eyed her, a naughty grin spreading. “Looking good, girl. Those shimmering leggings—bold choice for a park stroll.” Her tone was teasing, her saree tied neatly for the trip.

Nivi laughed, smoothing the kurti. “Comfortable, but a bit fun. Let’s get the kids.” The boys bounced in, their energy renewed, and the four of them headed out, the trolley left behind, the apartment door locking with a click. The bus stop was short, the vehicle crowded but manageable, the ride bumpy through Coimbatore’s streets, the kids peering out the windows with wide eyes.

They arrived at the park, the green space alive with families, the air fresh with grass and distant street food smells. The kids ran to the swings, their laughter ringing, and Nivi and her mother-in-law followed, pushing them gently, the light kurti fluttering in the breeze. “This place is nice,” Nivi said, her voice relaxed, the shimmering leggings sparkling as she moved.

Her mother-in-law nodded, her eyes scanning. “Peaceful. Keep an eye out for that Rajendar—feed the dogs, right?” Her tone was casual, her hand on the swing chain.

Nivi smiled, pushing her elder son higher. “Yeah. Let’s play a bit first.” They spent time with the kids—slides, a game of tag, the boys’ joy infectious, Nivi’s kurti getting slightly dusty but her mood light. The park’s ambiance was calming, birds chirping, families chatting, the afternoon sun warm but not harsh.

Then, in the corner near a shaded tree, Nivi spotted him—Rajendar, the senior auditor, his graying hair neat, a bag of food packets in hand. He knelt by a group of eager dogs, strays wagging their tails, their eyes bright as he distributed the food. He moved with quiet care, his face softening in a way she’d never seen at the office.

“There he is,” Nivi whispered to her mother-in-law, who nodded, staying with the kids. Nivi approached slowly, her shimmering leggings catching the light, the light kurti swaying. “Mr. Rajendar?” she called out, her voice friendly, a smile on her face.

He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes, then a polite nod. “Nivetha? What brings you here?” His tone was formal, his hands pausing with a packet.

Nivi knelt beside him, petting a nearby dog, the fur soft under her fingers. “First time here. Liked the ambiance—thought I’d bring the kids. You come often?” Her voice was casual, the dog leaning into her touch.

Rajendar smiled faintly, handing a packet to another dog. “Weekends only. These strays—they wait for me.” His voice was gruff but kind, his stubborn office demeanor cracking slightly.

Nivi nodded, scratching the dog’s ears. “They’re lucky to have you. This one’s sweet—looks like a loyal type.” She glanced at the kids playing nearby, her mother-in-law watching with a subtle nod.

He chuckled softly, his eyes on the dogs. “That’s Rusty—always the first to eat, but gentle. The black one’s Shadow—shy, but trusts once you pet him right.” His words flowed, the stubbornness smoothing as he talked, joining her to pet Rusty, his hand near hers but respectful.

Nivi smiled, her respect growing—he didn’t ogle her like other men, his focus on the dogs. “I’ll try to come more often. This place is relaxing.” Her tone was genuine, the light kurti brushing the grass as she petted Shadow, the dog nuzzling her hand.

Rajendar nodded, a real smile breaking through. “Good idea. They’d like that.” The talk stayed light, the dogs binding them, the kids’ laughter a background melody. Nivi felt the connection form, his guarded nature opening, the park’s peace a perfect start.

As the sun dipped lower, they wrapped up, Rajendar packing the empty bags. “See you at the office,” he said, his voice warmer, waving to the kids.

Nivi waved back, her heart lighter, joining her mother-in-law and the boys. “That went well,” she whispered, the shimmering leggings dusty but her confidence shining. The bus ride home was tired but happy, the kids dozing, the day’s success settling in. Back at the apartment, Nivi changed into her nighty, the light kurti folded away, her mind on the breakthrough with Rajendar, the park’s dogs a key to her power.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 94: A Test of Resolve

Nivi woke to the gentle hum of a new day, the weekend stretching ahead with its usual rhythm. The apartment buzzed with the kids’ laughter as they played with their toys, the scent of fresh dosa wafting from the kitchen where her mother-in-law worked her magic. Nivi moved through the morning in her nighty, the fabric soft against her skin, helping the boys with a puzzle, then tidying the living room. The trolley of outfits sat quietly, a reminder of her growing confidence, but the day felt ordinary—laundry, a quick meal, the kids’ chatter filling the gaps. Her legs, still faintly sore from the park visit, eased with each step, the weekend’s intensity fading into routine.

Saturday passed in a blur of domesticity. She cooked lunch with her mother-in-law, the kids spilling rice in their excitement, and they watched a cartoon together, the TV’s colors dancing on the walls. The shimmering leggings and light kurta from yesterday were folded away, replaced by a simple salwar suit for the day’s ease. The evening brought more play—tag in the small courtyard, the boys’ giggles echoing, Nivi’s energy matching theirs despite the lingering ache. The night closed with bedtime stories, the kids drifting off, and Nivi sinking into the couch, the week’s weight lifting slightly.

Sunday morning dawned with the same quiet comfort. Nivi helped the kids dress, their toy car and dinosaur in tow, and they played board games, the living room a mess of laughter and scattered pieces. Her mother-in-law prepared a spicy chutney, the kitchen alive with aromas, and they ate together, the meal a warm break. The afternoon stretched with more play—drawing, a makeshift race with the car—Nivi’s kurta getting smudged with crayon marks, the day a gentle flow of family time.

As the sun dipped toward evening, the kids dragged Nivi outside for one last game, the courtyard filled with their shouts. She chased them, her salwar suit fluttering, when her mother-in-law stepped out, wiping her hands on her saree, a thoughtful look on her face. “Nivi, aren’t you going to the park today? That Rajendar fellow?” Her voice was casual but probing, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Nivi paused, catching her breath, the kids running circles. “Raghavan said he’s only there on Saturdays. I went yesterday with you all.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, brushing sweat from her brow.

Her mother-in-law tilted her head, a sly smile forming. “Yesterday, he mentioned weekends, not just Saturday. Why not go alone today? Spend some time with him. I’ll handle the kids.” Her voice was encouraging, her hand resting on Nivi’s arm.

Nivi looked at her, surprise flashing in her eyes. “You seem more eager than me! What’s this about?” Her voice was curious, the kids’ play fading as she focused.

The older woman laughed softly, her gaze distant. “I wasted my life hesitating, postponing decisions—that’s why I’m like this now. I don’t want you to do the same. There’s a selfish side too—I don’t want my last years in poverty. Anand won’t care for me; you’re the one I’ve got. I need you successful, and I’ll support whatever you do. Don’t end up like me, stuck and silent.” Her words were raw, her hand squeezing Nivi’s arm, the saree swaying in the breeze.

Nivi stood still, the words sinking in, her mind racing. She’s right—hesitation held her back, she thought, the courtyard’s noise a distant hum. She nodded slowly, her resolve hardening. “Okay. I’ll go. Thanks for the push—and the support.” Her voice was steady, gratitude mixing with determination.

Her mother-in-law smiled, patting her cheek. “Good girl. Go get him—or at least try. I’ve got the kids.” Her tone was playful, her eyes twinkling as she shooed Nivi inside.

Nivi headed to her room, her heart pounding with the new plan. Test him, she thought, deciding to dress bolder than yesterday to see if Rajendar noticed. She chose a deep red kurta, the fabric clinging to her curves, paired with shimmering black leggings that hugged her legs, the dupatta a light accent to draw the eye. She checked the mirror, the outfit sexy yet subtle, her figure outlined without being overt. Will he look? she wondered, a thrill running through her, the power of her beauty stirring.

She grabbed a small bag, kissed the kids goodbye—her mother-in-law waving with a mischievous grin—and stepped out, the evening air cool against her skin. The walk to the park was short, the streets quieting as families settled in, the park’s green expanse coming into view. She entered, the grass soft underfoot, the dogs’ distant barks a faint call, and found a bench near the tree where Rajendar had been the day before.

Nivi waited, her red kurta catching the fading light, the shimmering leggings reflecting it subtly. She watched the path, expecting Rajendar, her mind replaying his gentle dog-feeding moment. Minutes ticked by, the park growing quieter, families leaving, the dogs pacing near the corner. The sun dipped lower, the sky turning orange, but he didn’t appear. Where is he? she thought, her confidence wavering.

The dogs grew restless, their eyes hopeful, and Nivi couldn’t resist. She walked to a nearby vendor, buying a pack of biscuits, the crinkle of the packet loud in the stillness. She returned, kneeling by the dogs, breaking the biscuits into pieces. “Here, sweeties,” she said, her voice soft, feeding them one by one, their tails wagging, the fur soft under her hands.

As she petted them, her mind wandered. Should I head home? she thought, the evening deepening, the park nearly empty. Or wait longer? What’s next? The dogs nuzzled her, the red kurta brushing the grass, the shimmering leggings dusty, her thoughts a mix of frustration and resolve as the chapter ended.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 95: A Step Forward

Nivi knelt by the dogs, the biscuits crumbling in her hands as the strays lapped them up eagerly, their tails wagging in the fading light. The park was nearly empty now, the families gone, the evening breeze carrying the distant call of a vendor.

Her red kurta brushed the grass, the shimmering black leggings dusty from the ground, her mind a whirl of frustration.

He didn’t come, she thought, petting the last dog, its fur soft under her fingers. The sky darkened to purple, the air cooling, and she stood, brushing off her knees.

Should I head home? Or call him? The decision tugged at her, Raghavan’s plan echoing—gain his respect, take control. She pulled out her phone, the screen glowing, and scrolled to Rajendar’s number, her thumb hovering.

With a deep breath, she dialed, the ring sharp in the quiet. When he answered, his voice was gruff but surprised.

“Nivetha? It’s late—what’s this?”

“Mr. Rajendar,” she said, her voice warm with concern, “I came to the park this evening, hoping to see the dogs again. You didn’t show up to feed them, so I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?” Her words were gentle, the dogs circling her feet, one nuzzling her leg.

There was a pause, then a sigh.

“Fell on the stairs today. Twisted my ankle. I’ll manage—thanks for the thought.” His voice carried pain, the stubbornness she knew from work evident.

Nivi’s heart skipped, opportunity flashing.

“Oh no, that sounds bad! Do you need help? I could bring something—food, medicine?” Her tone was earnest, the shimmering leggings catching the last light as she paced.

“No need,” he said, his voice firm but softening.

“I’m resting. It’ll heal on its own.”

She hesitated, then leaned into the moment. This is my chance to gain his respect, she thought, her voice steadying.

“I can’t just leave knowing you’re hurt. Please, let me visit—just to check. It’ll take no time.” Her plea was gentle but insistent, the power of her concern driving her.

Rajendar paused, his breath audible.

“If you must… 12B, Old Gandhi Road. But it’s nothing grand.” The address came reluctantly, the call ending with a soft click.

Nivi’s pulse raced, a plan forming. She thanked the dogs with a final pat, tossed the empty biscuit packet, and hailed an auto from the park’s edge. The ride was quick, the streets dimming as night fell, her mind rehearsing—be helpful, show respect, crack his shell. The auto stopped at Old Gandhi Road, a quiet lane with old houses, and she paid, stepping out into the cool air.

The house at 12B was simple, old, its paint peeling, a single-story structure with a small gate. Her eyes widened as a muscular dog appeared in the yard—tall, its dark fur thick, its height matching hers if it stood. Fear gripped her, her breath catching, the dog’s presence intimidating as it paced the yard, its muscles rippling.

She fumbled for her phone, dialing Rajendar again, her voice shaky.

“I’m here—there’s a huge dog outside! Is it safe to come in?” Her tone trembled, the bag shaking in her hand.

The door creaked open, and Rajendar emerged, leaning on a walking stick, his face lined with pain but calm.

“That’s Titan,” he said, hobbling to the gate, unlocking it with effort.

“He’s with me—come in, he won’t bite.” His voice was reassuring, though his limp was pronounced, the stick tapping the ground.

Nivi stepped through, her heart pounding, the dog sniffing her legs, its size looming. To her surprise, Titan wagged its tail, nuzzling her hand, its bark silent. She exhaled, petting its head, the fur coarse but warm.

“He likes me?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief, the fear melting away.

Rajendar locked the gate, his eyes widening.

“Never seen that. He barks at everyone—only trusts me. You’ve got a way with him.” His tone was surprised, a faint smile breaking through as he steadied himself with the stick.

She smiled back, her nerves easing, the red kurta brushing her thighs as she moved.

“Maybe he senses I’m friendly.” Her voice was light, the dog leaning into her touch, its muscular frame relaxing.

He nodded, gesturing to the house.

“Come in. It’s modest, but you’re welcome.” His voice was gruff but inviting, the walking stick tapping as he led her inside.

Nivi followed, Titan trailing behind, her kurta swaying with each step. The house was simple—old furniture, faded curtains, a single chair with a dog bed in the corner. She noticed the solitude—no family photos, no signs of others, just Rajendar’s quiet life. He lives alone, she thought, her respect deepening, the chance to build a connection unfolding as they stepped into his home, the chapter ending there.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 96: Bonds Over Tea

Nivi stepped into Rajendar’s modest living room, the door clicking shut behind her, the air carrying a faint musty scent of old wood. Titan, the muscular dog, padded over, his tail wagging, and she knelt to pet him, her red kurta brushing the floor, the shimmering black leggings catching the dim light.

His fur was coarse under her fingers, his presence a surprising comfort after the initial fear. The house felt still, the solitude palpable, and she glanced around as Rajendar hobbled to a small table, his walking stick tapping.

He poured water from a jug into a glass, his movements slow, and offered it to her. “Water? Or would you like coffee, tea, or juice?” His voice was gruff but polite, his ankle clearly bothering him as he leaned on the stick.

Nivi stood, waving off the glass, her concern growing. “No, thank you. You should rest that ankle—let me make it. Tea or coffee?” Her tone was insistent, her hands on her hips, the kurta swaying as she stepped toward the kitchen.

Rajendar shook his head, wincing as he shifted. “No need, I can manage.” His voice held stubborn pride, but his limp betrayed him.

She smiled, firm. “I insist. Rest on the sofa—I’ll handle it.” Before he could protest, she moved into the kitchen, the unfamiliar space a maze of old cabinets and cluttered counters. The room was small, the sink chipped, the stove worn, and she began searching, her leggings shimmering as she bent to check drawers.

Rajendar sat on the sofa, his stick propped beside him, and guided her. “Tea’s in the tin above the sink. Sugar’s left, milk in the fridge.” His voice was steady, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched her bustle about.

Nivi rummaged, finding the tin, the sugar jar, the milk—each item a small victory in the chaos. She noticed his gaze, warm and amused, and paused, holding the kettle. “Why the smile?” Her voice was curious, the kurta brushing her thighs as she turned.

He leaned back, his eyes softening. “You’re the first woman to step into that kitchen. It’s… refreshing to see you so active.” His tone was genuine, the smile lingering, his hands resting on his knees.

Her heart warmed, respect deepening. “Really? I thought you were married, maybe with kids.” Her voice was gentle, the kettle heating as she prepared the tea.

Rajendar shook his head, his gaze dropping. “Stayed single. A love failed years ago—never found the heart to try again.” His words were quiet, the vulnerability surprising, his stick tapping lightly.

Nivi poured the tea, her hands steady, admiration growing. “That takes strength. I respect that more now.” Her voice was sincere, carrying the tray to the sofa where she sat beside him, the cups steaming.

They sipped, the tea warm and strong, and he shifted, wincing. “Doctor said no strain for a few days. Just rest.” His tone was resigned, the stick leaning against the sofa.

Nivi frowned, worry creasing her brow. “Being alone, how can you avoid strain? Cooking, moving—let me help. I’ll bring the office files daily, work with you here until you recover.” Her offer was earnest, the kurta brushing her knees as she leaned in.

Rajendar looked at her, surprise in his eyes. “That’s kind, but… what will the boss say?” His voice was cautious, the tea cup trembling slightly in his hand.

She smiled, confident. “I’ll convince him. It’s worth it to help you.” Her tone was firm, the power of her decision settling, the tea warming her hands.

They talked more, the tea cooling. “The fall was clumsy—slipped on the last step,” he said, his voice low. “Doctor warned about swelling, but I’ll manage.”

Nivi nodded, her concern lingering. “Still, rest is key. I’ll handle the files—don’t worry.” Her voice was reassuring, the sofa creaking as she shifted.

He thanked her, his smile small but genuine. “Thank you, Nivetha. It’s more than I expected.” His tone was grateful, the stick a silent reminder of his need.

She finished her tea, setting the cup down, and glanced at the clock on the wall. “What about dinner? Will you be okay?” Her voice was caring, the evening deepening outside.

He waved a hand, relaxed. “I’ll order something. No problem.” His voice was steady, the tea tray between them.

Nivi stood, smoothing her kurta, and turned to Titan, who had been watching quietly. She knelt, hugging the dog, its fur warm against her cheek. “Take care, big guy,” she whispered, standing to leave. The door opened, the night air cool, and she stepped out, the chapter ending as she glanced back at the simple house, her mind on the new bond formed.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 97: Seizing the Moment

Nivi slipped back into the apartment, the night air clinging to her red kurta, the shimmering black leggings slightly dusty from the park and Rajendar’s yard. The door clicked shut, the kids’ soft snores a distant hum from their room, the living room bathed in the faint glow of a single lamp. Her heart raced with the evening’s events—calling Rajendar, visiting his home, petting Titan—and she felt a surge of pride at seizing the opportunity. She set her bag down, the trolley of outfits a quiet witness, and found her mother-in-law on the couch, a cup of chai in hand, her saree dbangd loosely.

“You’re back late,” the older woman said, her voice warm but curious, patting the seat beside her.

“Spill it—what happened?”

Nivi sank onto the couch, her kurta brushing her thighs, and leaned in.

“I called Rajendar after he didn’t show at the park. He’d fallen, twisted his ankle. I worried, so I went to his place—12B, Old Gandhi Road. Offered to help, and he let me in.” Her voice was excited, the story tumbling out.

Her mother-in-law’s eyes lit up, a proud smile spreading.

“Smart move, girl! Using that chance to get close—perfect play. What did you do?” Her tone was admiring, her hand resting on Nivi’s knee.

Nivi grinned, the praise boosting her.

“I insisted on making tea since he couldn’t move much. Searched his kitchen—it was a mess, but I managed. We talked, and I offered to bring office files, work with him till he recovers. He was surprised, thanked me.” Her voice was proud, the leggings shimmering as she shifted.

The older woman nodded, impressed.

“That’s my girl! Showing care—now he’ll trust you. Good instinct.” Her tone was encouraging, her fingers squeezing Nivi’s knee.

Nivi pulled out her phone, dialing Raghavan, her pulse quickening.

“I need to tell him.” When he answered, his voice was tired but warm.

“Hey, it’s me. I visited Rajendar—his ankle’s twisted. I offered to help with work at his place till he’s better.”

Raghavan chuckled, his tone approving.

“Well done, Nivi. Seizing the moment—perfect. Wait a sec, I’ll add him to the call.” The line shifted, a conference tone beeping, and Rajendar’s voice joined, gruff but polite.

“Hello?”

“Rajendar, it’s Raghavan,” he said, his voice firm.

“Nivi explained your situation. Take two weeks’ paid leave—rest that ankle. For any work doubts, Nivi will come to your home for guidance.” His tone was decisive, the plan solidifying.

Rajendar hesitated, then spoke.

“Thank you both. That’s… generous. I appreciate it.” His voice softened, the gratitude clear.

Nivi smiled, her heart swelling.

“Glad to help, sir.” The call ended, Raghavan disconnecting, then ringing her back alone.

“Good job, Nivi,” he said, his voice lowering.

“This time, make sure you get all the clients on your side. Any new encounters in your life—spill it, you naughty girl?” His tone turned flirty, a naughty edge creeping in.

She laughed, blushing.

“No new ones—just work and Rajendar. But I’ll try something—stay happy, okay?” Her voice was playful, deflecting his push.

He chuckled, his tone warm.

“Do it, baby. Be bold. I’ll miss you.” The call ended, leaving her with his words echoing.

Nivi sighed, the excitement fading into tiredness, and lay on the couch, her kurta soft against her skin. Her mind replayed his advice—control the clients, be happy—and she drifted to sleep, the night wrapping her in thoughts of power and possibility.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 98: Rising Influence

Nivi woke to the soft clatter of morning, her body rested after a night of dreams fueled by Raghavan’s flirty words, the red kurta and shimmering leggings from the previous evening swapped for a fresh start. She rose, the faint ache in her thighs a quiet memory, and slipped into a mustard-yellow kurta that flowed gently over her curves, paired with charcoal gray leggings that flattered her legs with a subtle sheen. The apartment hummed with the kids’ chatter as they got ready for college, their toy car zooming across the floor, the scent of her mother-in-law’s brewing chai filling the air.

As she tied her hair back, her mother-in-law emerged from the kitchen, a steaming cup in hand, her saree swishing with a playful sway. “Morning, starlet,” she teased, leaning against the doorway. “Don’t forget that Instagram plan we talked about. Let’s get some office looks before you head out—show off that glow.” Her voice carried a naughty lilt, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Nivi laughed, adjusting her dupatta, the mustard-yellow kurta catching the light. “You’re pushy! Okay, let’s do it.” They stepped onto the balcony, the morning breeze cool, and her mother-in-law grabbed Nivi’s phone. “Stand there—hands on hips, smile like you own the office,” she directed, snapping shots of Nivi leaning against the railing, turning to show her profile, the charcoal leggings outlining her shape. “Perfect,” the older woman said, reviewing the pics. “Post a couple—keep it classy.”

Nivi took the phone, scrolling through the images—one with a soft smile, another with a confident pose, the kurta’s vibrant hue popping. She added a caption: “Office vibes ? #WorkLook #IndianStyle,” and hit post, her heart fluttering as the images went live on her “NiviGlow” account. “There—my second step,” she said, showing her mother-in-law, who nodded with approval.

The kids dashed out to catch the college bus, their shouts fading, and Nivi grabbed her bag, heading to the office. The ride was routine, the auto jostling through the morning traffic, her mind on Rajendar and Raghavan’s plan. At the office, she gathered the team in the break room, the hum of the printer in the background, and announced, “Rajendar’s twisted his ankle—on leave for two weeks. I’ll handle his clients for now. Any questions?” Her voice was steady, the mustard-yellow kurta swaying as she stood tall.

Saritha raised an eyebrow, Lakshmi nodding curiously, but the boys gang—Ashwin, Dinesh, and Ashok—grinned. “You’re the boss now?” Ashwin teased, his voice booming. The day rolled on with usual tasks—spreadsheets, client emails, the office buzz familiar—her confidence growing with each nod of approval.

During a midmorning break, Nivi leaned against the tea station, the clink of spoons a steady rhythm. “Hey, boys, follow my Instagram—‘NiviGlow.’ Give me some love,” she said, her tone playful, the charcoal leggings hugging her as she stirred her chai.

Ashwin’s eyes lit up, his grin widening. “Oh, I’m in! I run a famous meme page—‘LaughLadCoimbatore.’ I’ll promote you, get you followers fast.” His voice was flirty, leaning closer.

Dinesh chuckled, adjusting his glasses. “Promote her? She’ll outshine us all. What’s the first post, Nivi—something sexy?” His tone was teasing, a wink thrown in.

Ashok smiled shyly, sipping his tea. “I followed. You look great—keep posting.” His quiet compliment made her blush, the group’s energy lifting.

Nivi laughed, stirring her chai. “Just office looks for now, boys. Save the sexy for later—unless you beg.” Her voice was coy, the flirt keeping it light, the kurta shifting as she leaned back.

Ashwin grinned, nudging Dinesh. “Beg? We’ll spam your comments. I’ll boost you—ten thousand followers in a week if I plug it.” His tone was bold, his hand brushing her arm playfully.

Dinesh smirked. “Ten thousand? She’ll need a manager. That kurta’s a hit—show more leg next time!” His comment was cheeky, the group laughing.

Ashok nodded, his voice soft. “I like the modest vibe. But yeah, promote it—I’ll share too.” His support was sweet, his eyes on her approvingly.

The day continued with routine work—meetings, data checks, the office hum steady—Nivi’s mind split between clients and her new Instagram venture. The boys’ flirts lingered, their offers to boost her profile a thrilling prospect, her power growing with each interaction.

As the workday ended, Nivi sat at her desk, the office emptying, the faint clack of keyboards fading. She packed her bag, the mustard-yellow kurta creased from the day, the charcoal leggings still snug. The files for Rajendar weighed in her bag, his home a tempting pull. I should visit him, she thought, the decision firming. The office lights dimmed, her colleagues gone, and she grabbed the files, heading out with a determined step.

The auto ride was quick, the evening air cool, and she arrived at 12B, Old Gandhi Road, the simple house familiar now. She stepped through the gate with confidence, Titan’s earlier welcome replaying in her mind. The muscular dog bounded over, wagging its tail, and playfully hugged her legs, its fur brushing her knees. She laughed, petting its head, the fear gone, and rang the bell, the sound echoing in the quiet yard.

The door took time to open, a slow creak breaking the silence, and Rajendar appeared, leaning on his walking stick, his face registering surprise. “Nivetha? What brings you?” His voice was gruff, his ankle bandaged, and he glanced at the table, quickly trying to hide a whiskey glass with a shaky hand. His stumble was awkward, the stick wobbling, and Nivi rushed forward.

“Careful!” she said, steadying him, her hands on his arm, guiding him to the sofa. “It’s fine—I’ve seen worse at home with Anand. Sit, rest.” Her tone was calm, the kurta brushing his sleeve as she helped him settle.

Rajendar sank into the sofa, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Thanks. Didn’t expect company.” His voice was low, the whiskey glass now tucked behind a cushion.

Nivi smiled, setting her bag down, the files peeking out. “I brought work—thought we could start. How’s the ankle?” Her voice was caring, the shimmering leggings catching the light as she sat beside him.

He shifted, wincing. “Painful, but manageable. Doctor said rest.” His tone was resigned, the stick resting against the armrest.

They talked work briefly, Nivi flipping through the files. “These need your input—client budgets. I’ll handle the rest.” Her voice was professional, the kurta’s fabric soft against her skin.

Rajendar nodded, his eyes on the papers. “Good. Let’s review tomorrow.” His voice was cooperative, the tension easing.

She noticed the whiskey, her gaze softening. “Go on, have your drink. I don’t mind—it’s your home.” Her tone was encouraging, a playful edge creeping in.

He hesitated, his hand hovering. “Not polite with a guest…”

She insisted, her voice firm but warm. “I insist. It helps the pain, right?” Her smile was reassuring, the leggings shimmering as she leaned back.

He relented, retrieving the glass, taking a sip. “Helps the ache—inside and out,” he admitted, his voice relaxing, the whiskey’s warmth softening his edges.

Nivi tilted her head, her tone caring. “External pain or internal? You don’t have to answer.” Her voice was gentle, understanding his solitude.

He didn’t reply, but his silence spoke volumes, the glass trembling slightly. She rose, fetching the bottle from the table, and poured him another round, her hands steady. “Here, let it help.” Her voice was supportive, the kurta brushing his arm as she handed it over.

Rajendar took it, sipping slowly, his eyes meeting hers. “I like you more in this… boozy feel. You’re different.” His tone was warm, a rare openness breaking through.

Nivi smiled, touched. “Thank you. I might visit often—does that bother you?” Her voice was hopeful, the power of her connection growing.

He looked at Titan, standing happily near her, wagging its tail. “With Titan liking you? Always welcome.” His smile was genuine, the whiskey glass steady in his hand.

She stood, gathering her bag, and hugged Titan goodbye, his fur warm against her cheek. “See you soon,” she said, stepping out into the night she headed home, her mind on the new bond and the path ahead.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 99: Gaining Ground

Nivi woke to the gentle rustle of morning, her body feeling lighter after a few days of routine, the mustard-yellow kurta and charcoal grey leggings from Monday swapped for a lavender kurta that flowed softly over her curves, paired with deep green leggings that added a fresh flair. The apartment hummed with the kids’ chatter as they readied for college, their toy car zipping across the floor, the scent of her mother-in-law’s brewing coffee mingling with the dawn. The week had settled into a rhythm, her confidence growing with each step, the trolley of outfits a quiet muse in the corner.

The past few days at the office had mirrored Monday’s flow—spreadsheets, client calls, the tea station’s clatter—but a buzz had begun. Ashwin, true to his word, had promoted her “NiviGlow” Instagram on his “LaughLadCoimbatore” meme page, and the results were staggering. By midweek, her follower count soared past 5,000, the notifications pinging with comments and DM requests. “Stunning!” one read. “More pics please!” another begged. The flood was overwhelming, but Nivi brushed it off, focusing on work, her power simmering beneath the surface.

Each morning, her mother-in-law took charge of the Instagram ritual. “Time for your glow, starlet,” she’d tease, her saree swishing as she led Nivi to the balcony. With a naughty grin, she snapped pics—Nivi in a maroon kurta with black leggings one day, a teal one with beige leggings the next—posing with a coffee cup, leaning against the railing, her curves subtly highlighted. “Post this—keep them wanting more,” the older woman would say, her voice playful, her fingers adjusting Nivi’s dupatta with a wink.

Nivi complied, uploading the shots with captions like “Morning vibes ? #DailyLook” or “Work ready ? #IndianStyle,” the likes and comments pouring in. “Gorgeous!” fans gushed. “More legs next time?” some hinted. She ignored the DMs, the flirty requests piling up, her focus on building her presence, the lavender kurta swaying as she moved through the day.

Meanwhile, her daily visits to Rajendar became a new routine. After work, she’d take an auto to 12B, Old Gandhi Road, the simple house growing familiar. She’d enter with confidence, Titan bounding over to nuzzle her legs, his muscular frame a playful welcome. Rajendar, leaning on his stick, would greet her with a gruff nod, his ankle still bandaged, the living room’s solitude a quiet backdrop.

“Files for today,” she’d say, spreading papers on his small table, the maroon kurta from that morning brushing the wood. They’d review budgets, clarify doubts, his voice steady despite the pain. “This client’s tricky—needs a soft touch,” he’d mutter, his eyes on the numbers, not her figure.

As the evenings wore on, she noticed the whiskey glass on the table, the amber liquid a constant companion. “Need a refill?” she’d ask, her tone caring, the deep green leggings shimmering as she stood. He’d hesitate, but she’d insist, pouring with a smile. “It helps the pain, right?” Her voice was gentle, the power of her care easing his guard.

Rajendar would take the glass, sipping slowly. “Helps the ache—inside too,” he’d admit, his voice softening, the stick resting against the sofa. They’d talk work, the drinks loosening his words, his respect for her growing with each visit. “You’re a gem, Nivetha,” he’d say, the whiskey warming his tone, a rare smile breaking through.

Nivi would laugh, clearing the files. “Just doing my part.” Her visits ended with a pat to Titan, the dog’s fur warm, and she’d head home, the auto ride a quiet reflection. Her mother-in-law would be waiting, chai ready, the Instagram pics queued for the next day. “Another day, another win,” the older woman would tease, her hands massaging Nivi’s shoulders, the bond deepening.

The week unfolded with this pattern—office mornings with flirty coworkers, Instagram growth under her mother-in-law’s guidance, and evenings at Rajendar’s, the whiskey and files a bridge to trust. The comments on “NiviGlow” swelled—“Queen of style!” “More please!”—but she stayed focused, the 5,000+ followers a silent cheer. At Rajendar’s, the drinks became a ritual, his guarded nature softening, the solitude of his home a canvas for her influence.

One evening, as she poured his third glass, he leaned back, his eyes clearer despite the whiskey. “You’ve got a way with people, Nivetha. Even Titan likes you.” His voice was warm, the stick unused for a moment.

Nivi smiled, setting the bottle down. “Thanks. I’ll keep helping—makes me feel useful.” Her tone was sincere, the lavender kurta brushing her knees as she stood.

He nodded, sipping slowly. “More than useful. A lifeline, almost.” His words were quiet, the bond strengthening.

She left with a wave, Titan at her heels, the auto ride home filled with thoughts of power and progress. Her mother-in-law greeted her with a smirk. “Another day with the whiskey man? You’re taming him good.” Her tone was naughty, the chai steaming.

Nivi laughed, sinking into the couch. “Just work—and a little drink help. Let’s get tomorrow’s pic.” They moved to the balcony, the older woman snapping shots in a peach kurta and navy leggings, the routine a dance of growth and connection.

The week closed with Nivi’s influence rising—Instagram buzzing, Rajendar opening up, her mother-in-law’s support a steady force. The apartment’s warmth wrapped her, the kids’ toys scattered, and she drifted to sleep, the power within her growing with each step.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 100: Craving the Edge

Nivi stirred in bed, the weekend's arrival bringing a shift in the air, the apartment quiet as the kids slept, the faint hum of the ceiling fan a steady companion. The memories of the resort trip, once blurred by fatigue, now sharpened in her mind—the trek's exhaustion, the passion with Vikram and Raghavan, the way her body had surrendered to desire.

As the fog cleared, a new sensation built, her pussy tingling with a growing want, a hunger for action that left her restless. What do I do with this? she thought, her fingers tracing the nighty's hem, the kids' soft breaths a reminder of her reality, the trolley of outfits a silent temptation in the corner.

She rose slowly, the ache in her thighs a dull echo, and slipped into a peach kurta that dbangd softly over her curves, paired with olive green leggings that hugged her legs with a subtle sheen. The morning unfolded with the usual weekend rhythm—helping the kids with breakfast, the clatter of plates, the scent of fresh parathas filling the air. Her mother-in-law bustled in the kitchen, her saree swishing, and Nivi joined them, forcing a smile to mask her inner turmoil.

The chai warmed her, but the craving lingered, her pussy throbbing with unmet need, the resort's wild nights replaying in flashes—Vikram's tongue, Raghavan's thrusts.

I need something, she thought, her body restless as she cleared the table, the kids' chatter a distraction. The morning stretched with play, the boys' toy car racing across the floor, her mother-in-law's teasing glances noticing her distraction.

"Lost in thoughts, girl?" she asked, her voice naughty, a wink in her eye.

Nivi blushed, stirring her chai. "Just the weekend vibe." Her voice was light, but the want pulsed, her mind wandering to possible outlets— a quick touch in the shower, but the kids' presence made it impossible. The day dragged with chores—laundry, tidying, the apartment's routine a cage for her desire.

As midday approached, Nivi grabbed her phone, the “NiviGlow” account a welcome diversion. She stepped onto the balcony, the breeze cool, and posed in the peach kurta, the olive green leggings catching the light. She snapped a selfie with a soft smile, the kurta's color popping, and added a caption: “Weekend vibes ? #CasualStyle #IndianBeauty.” She hit post, the likes starting to trickle in, a small thrill cutting through her restlessness, the comments praising her glow.

The post done, she decided on grocery shopping, craving the fresh air to clear her head. “I’m going alone today,” she told her mother-in-law, who nodded with a knowing smile, her saree tucked as she watched the kids. Nivi grabbed a bag, the peach kurta fluttering, the olive green leggings snug, and headed out, the market’s bustle a promising escape.

The walk was invigorating, the streets alive with vendors calling out, the air thick with spices, fresh fruits, and the sizzle of street food. She navigated the stalls, her bag filling with rice, potatoes, tomatoes, and a bunch of ripe mangoes, the scents grounding her. But the craving followed, her pussy aching with each step, the leggings rubbing against her thighs, the resort’s daring acts flashing—Vikram's worship, Raghavan's control. I need release, she thought, her body hot, the market's crowd a tease with its glances at her kurta-clad figure.

The return trip was slower, the bag heavy on her shoulder, her mind a storm of desire. As she neared her street, a car slowed—Mohan’s face behind the wheel, his smile wide as he rolled down the window. “Nivi! Shopping? Let me give you a lift,” he said, his voice smooth, pulling over, his eyes tracing her peach kurta and olive green leggings.

She paused, adjusting her bag, her pulse quickening. “Just groceries, Mohan. I’m fine walking.” Her tone was polite, but the heat in his gaze made her craving flare, her pussy throbbing as she recalled his past longing.

He leaned out, his eyes dark with want. “You look incredible. Remember our blowjob competition? You won, and I’ve obeyed your commands every day at work. When do I get my reward, Nivi? I’ve been patient.” His voice was low, a desperate edge, his fingers gripping the wheel, the memory of her mouth on him hanging between them.

Nivi’s breath hitched, her body responding with a rush, the craving overwhelming her, her pussy wet at the thought of action. I’m so horny, she thought, the urge tempting her to give in. But she hesitated, glancing around—the public street too risky for daring acts, her home with the kids not an option, his place too bold for her control. “I’m busy with family,” she said, her voice shaky, stepping back. “I can’t risk it here or at home or your place. Wait for your reward, Mohan—it’ll be worth it.” Her words were a mix of rejection and promise, her kurta fluttering as she turned, the olive green leggings shimmering in the light.

He sighed, disappointment flickering, but his smile lingered. “Whenever you’re ready, Nivi. I’ll wait.” The car pulled off, leaving her on the sidewalk, her bag heavy, her body still craving but her resolve firm.

She walked home, the groceries weighing her down, her mind a tangle of desire and restraint. The apartment door creaked open, and she stepped inside, setting the bags down, the chapter ending as she stood in the quiet, the peach kurta brushing her thighs, the unmet need a silent pulse.

[Sage_69]

Nivi threw a big net. Let's see if she got the strength to catch all the fishes.

[Sage_69]

And congrats! You published 100 chapters already!

[nivithenaughty]

Nivi threw a big net. Let's see if she got the strength to catch all the fishes.

Yes she will find all the big fishes and feast them all.

And congrats! You published 100 chapters already!

Thank you for your kind wishes and continuous support.