Fantasy Married Innocent Bengali Wife

[Shivani sharma]

Waiting

[Indian True Lust stories]

Next Update :

The day before holi Shweta had to go for a birthday Party in the evening. The evening was buzzing with excitement as Shweta attended a party, her gorgeous silk saree catching the eye of everyone in the room. The fabric clung to her curves, and beneath it, she wore a delicate bralette, adding a touch of intimacy to her ensemble. Shweta moved gracefully through the crowd, her confidence shining through.




Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a message from Komilla. "Shweta, darling! I'm outside. Get ready, we're heading to the farmhouse for a Holi celebration! Wear something comfortable, and don't worry about extra clothes—I've got you covered."

Shweta's eyes widened in surprise. She quickly excused herself from the party and rushed outside, where Komilla was waiting in a sleek car. Komilla, dressed in a revealing outfit that left little to the imagination, greeted her with a warm embrace. 



Komilla : "Shweta, you look stunning!" Komilla exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "But we need to hurry. The others are waiting, and we have a long drive ahead of us."

As they pulled up to Shweta's house, Raj was already waiting, his expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Komilla stepped out of the car, her heels clicking against the pavement, and introduced herself with a charming smile.



Komilla : "Raj, it's so nice to meet you! I'm Komilla, and I'm thrilled to have you join us on this adventure. We're heading to a secluded farmhouse for an unforgettable Holi celebration."



Raj : ( nodded) "That sounds interesting, Komilla. I'm in. But what about the drive? Is it going to be a long journey."



Komilla : (waved a dismissive hand, her smile never wavering) "Don't you worry about that, Raj. Your seat is booked beside the driver. You'll be our navigator, ensuring we don't miss a single turn or let the driver doze off. It's a crucial role, and I know you're up for the task."

As they made their way to the car, Shweta and Raj were introduced to their travel companions. There was Mohit, a tall and muscular man with a charming smile, and his wife Rashmi, a stunning woman with long, raven hair and a seductive presence. Arjun and Danny, both tall and well-built, completed the group. Shweta noticed that Komilla and Rashmi were dressed in revealing outfits, their curves accentuated by the tight, sexy fabrics. She felt a pang of discomfort, realizing that she was the only one in a thin saree, with no change of clothes for the trip.


"Welcome, welcome!" Mohit exclaimed, his voice deep and resonant. "We're thrilled to have you join us on this adventure."
Rashmi smiled, her eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and something more primal. "Yes, it's going to be a memorable journey," she purred, her voice a low, throaty sound.


As they approached the car, Shweta's eyes widened in surprise. It was a compact 4-seater, barely large enough to accommodate five people comfortably. The reality of the situation dawned on her—someone would have to sit on someone else's lap for the entire journey.

Komilla, noticing Shweta's discomfort, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, darling. We'll make it work. It's just a short trip, after all."

As they settled into the car, the dynamics became clear. Rashmi agreed to sit on Mohit's lap, her body pressing against his as she adjusted herself comfortably. Arjun and Danny took the back seat, their large frames filling the space, leaving little room for maneuver.


Shweta found herself sandwiched between Komilla and Danny, her thin saree offering little protection against the press of their bodies. She could feel the heat radiating from Danny's muscular frame, his presence both intimidating and arousing. Komilla, ever the attentive friend, ensured that Shweta was as comfortable as possible, her touch soothing and reassuring.

As the car pulled out of the driveway, the journey began in earnest. The road was a bumpy, pothole-riddled path, the car jostling and jerking with every uneven surface. The five-hour drive promised to be a test of endurance and patience.

The conversation in the car was lively, filled with laughter and playful banter. Mohit and Arjun regaled them with stories of their adventures, their voices deep and engaging. Rashmi and Komilla added their own anecdotes, their laughter a sultry sound that filled the car with a charged atmosphere.

Shweta, despite her initial discomfort, found herself drawn into the conversation, her inhibitions slowly melting away. The close proximity of their bodies, the warmth of their touches, and the electric energy in the air created a heady mix of sensations that left her feeling both vulnerable and empowered.

As the car continued to navigate the treacherous road, the passengers adjusted and readjusted, their bodies pressing and shifting against one another. Shweta could feel the firm muscles of Danny's thighs beneath her, the steady rhythm of his breath against her back. Komilla's hand rested on her knee, a comforting presence that grounded her in the moment.

As the car journeyed through the winding roads, the atmosphere inside grew increasingly charged. Shweta, sitting between Komilla and Danny, felt a mix of discomfort and arousal. The close proximity of their bodies, the warmth of their touches, and the electric energy in the air created a heady mix of sensations that left her feeling both vulnerable and empowered.


Suddenly, Mohit's hand snaked under Rashmi's top, his fingers squeezing her breasts with a familiarity that spoke of their intimate relationship. Shweta blushed, feeling a flush spread across her cheeks as she averted her gaze, trying to focus on the passing scenery.

Rashmi, noticing Shweta's discomfort, turned to her with a knowing smile. "Don't be shy, Shweta. We're all friends here," she purred, her voice a low, sultry sound that sent shivers down Shweta's spine. The ride had been going on for about an hour, and the need for a break became apparent. The car pulled over to the side of the road, and everyone tumbled out, stretching their cramped muscles and relieving themselves. The women, however, faced a dilemma—they needed to pee, and there were no restrooms in sight.


Komilla, ever the adventurous one, took the lead. She walked a few steps away from the car, lifted her skirt, and began to pee right there on the side of the road. Her thighs and a glimpse of her pussy were visible to Raj in the rear-view mirror, adding to the already charged atmosphere. Mohit, Danny, Arjun and Raj all one by one  relieved themselves near by the bushes. 



After komilla finished peeing she went to Shweta and asked her why she is not relieving herself. Shweta out of discomfort bluntly said she doesn't want to pee right now. Komilla understood the situation and without asking Shweta anything she pulled her saree  upto her back exposing her ass and her white panty. 



Komilla : Shweta if you want I can hold your saree like this , lower your panty and pee right now. Next we will stop after almost an hour or two for refreshments.  

The scene was visible to almost everyone over there and shweta was feeling very embarrassed. She lowered and adjusted her saree and went near Raj. 

Raj: Shweta I guess Komilla is right. You can relieve yourself here otherwise again you will have to hold on to your pee for long.

Shweta: Actually there are three unknown guys over here and moreover my panty is bit tight so I cannot squat with it. If I stand and pee it will create stain in my saree. So better I will adjust and control for few more hours. 

Shweta, feeling shy and uncomfortable, hesitated. She tried to control her bladder, deciding she would rather hold it in than expose herself like that. Rashmi, noticing Shweta's predicament, suggested a solution. "Shweta, why don't you sit in the car? Either you or Komilla can sit on my lap now. It's more comfortable than peeing out here." Komilla, seizing the opportunity, quickly ran back to the car and claimed a seat, leaving Shweta standing awkwardly by the roadside. With no other option, Shweta reluctantly approached the car and sat on Rashmi's lap. 

As Shweta was heavier as compared to the other girls Rashmi couldn't take shweta for more than 30mins. She requested shweta to shift to Mohit's lap as he can easily carry her weight.  She was bit reluctantly, her heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. As she lifted her ass from Rashmi's lap, Mohit patted his lap invitingly. "Come on, Shweta. Make yourself comfortable," he said, his voice deep and reassuring.

Shweta blushed deeply, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on her as she lowered herself onto Mohit's lap. His firm thighs supported her, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers. Mohit's shorts brushed against Shweta's skin as the car hit a bump, jolting her body closer to his. His hand, warm and firm, slid up her thigh, the fabric of her saree whispering against his skin. Shweta stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as his grip tightened, pulling her even closer. He leaned in, his breath hot against her neck, and whispered, "Just relax, Shweta. We're all friends here."


Her heart raced, pounding in her ears as she swallowed hard, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. She couldn't believe what was happening, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. The countryside blurred past the window, a kaleidoscope of greens and browns, interrupted only by the occasional splash of color from a distant village.


As the ride progressed, Mohit's hand grew bolder, sliding up to her waist and then cupping her breast. Shweta gasped, the sound lost in the chatter and the music. She looked around, hoping no one had noticed, but everyone else seemed engrossed in their own conversations. Her husband, Raj, was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, oblivious to the storm brewing in the back seat.

Her breath hitched when Rashmi announced, "I need to pee!" The car pulled over onto the side of the road, and the women piled out to relieve themselves. Shweta felt a strange mix of relief and dread as she stepped onto the dusty shoulder, the cool air caressing her skin.


Komilla followed her into the bushes, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and something more primal. "Shweta, open up your panty here," she said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "No one will see it here. And then sit to pee where I will show you. If you don't pee, your bladder will burst."


Shweta blinked, surprised by the request. "What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without a word, Shweta trusted Komilla and slowly lifted her saree, revealing her thighs. Komilla's eyes sparkled with amusement as she signaled Rashmi to come nearer. Rashmi, with a wicked grin, grabbed Shweta's panty and lowered it to her feet. "Lift your leg, Shweta," she commanded, her voice laced with authority. "I'll take care of this for you."

Shweta complied, lifting her leg as Rashmi pulled the panty off, leaving her completely exposed. "I'll give it back once you're done peeing," Rashmi said, her tone mocking. But instead of returning the panty, she walked back to the car, waving it tauntingly in front of everyone. "Here, Raj, keep your wife's panty safe. She won't be needing it for the rest of the trip," she teased, throwing the panty at Raj and mockingly saying, "Smell her panty and enjoy yourself."

The guys in the car erupted in laughter, their eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something more carnal. But their laughter suddenly stopped as they caught a glimpse in the rear-view mirror. Shweta's curvy ass was fully visible, and streams of pee wet the road, creating a sight that was both vulgar and strangely alluring. Her ass was juicy and inviting, and the guys exchanged glances, their eyes filled with a hunger that needed no words.



Raj saw the entire thing too, his reflection in the side mirror a picture of patience and curiosity. He understood now that the whole point of this Holi celebration was not just entertainment but a deeper, more intimate kind of fun—one that involved his wife in ways he had never imagined. And with Komilla and Rashmi orchestrating the events, he knew that the night was far from over.

As Shweta finished peeing, she turned to Rashmi with a expectant look. "Rashmi, can I have my panty back, please?" she asked, her voice a mix of hope and uncertainty.


Rashmi, with a blunt and dismissive tone, replied, "Don't be an aunty, Shweta. Who wears panty under a saree, anyway? And besides, we'll reach the farmhouse in just an hour . Wear whatever you want then."


With that, they all headed back to the car, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and a palpable tension. Shweta, still feeling the cool air on her bare skin, hesitated before climbing into the car. Mohit, eagerly awaiting her return, pulled her onto his lap with a firm and possessive grip. As she settled, Shweta's saree rode up, exposing her thighs to her knees. Unaware of the situation, she shifted uncomfortably, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread.

Mohit, sensing her vulnerability, grew bolder. His hands, warm and insistent, began to explore her body, squeezing her breasts with a confidence that left her breathless. Shweta, out of shock, looked towards Komilla for support, her eyes wide with a silent plea for guidance.



Komilla, with an erotic smile playing on her lips, signaled towards the other side of the car, where Rashmi was wrapped in Danny's arms, her moans of pleasure barely muffled by the chatter and music. Komilla then pressed Shweta's hand, a gentle but firm gesture, signaling her to remain silent and still. Her eyes flicked towards Raj, a warning in their depths—if Shweta made a sound, her husband would surely notice the intimate scene unfolding behind him.


Shweta, understanding the unspoken command, bit her lip to stifle any sound that might escape. Mohit's hands continued their exploration, tracing the curves of her body with a skilled and sensual touch. His breath, hot and ragged, brushed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her, a testament to his arousal and desire.



The car filled with a charged atmosphere, the air thick with the scent of their combined arousal and the underlying notes of perfume and cologne. Shweta's mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations that left her dizzy and disoriented. She stole glances at her husband, wondering if he could sense the storm of emotions and desires raging within her. Komilla, ever the attentive observer, leaned in close, her lips brushing against Shweta's ear as she whispered, "Just let go, Shweta. Embrace the moment and the sensations. We're all here for you, and no one will judge you for enjoying this."

As the car continued to navigate the bumpy roads, Mohit's hands grew even more adventurous. He slipped a hand beneath her saree, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, inching closer to her most intimate place. Shweta's breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping her lips as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

Rashmi, noticing Shweta's growing discomfort and arousal, turned to her with a wicked grin. "Enjoying yourself, Shweta?" she teased, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and something more primal. "Remember, no one can see us back here. Just let yourself go."

As the car continued its journey, the flickering streetlights and passing vehicles cast intermittent glimpses into the rearview mirror, revealing a scene that left Raj's heart pounding. With each flash of light, he caught sight of Shweta's compromising position, her saree lifted to her waist, exposing her naked lower body. The knowledge that her panty was safely tucked in his pocket only heightened the intensity of the moment. Raj's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to maintain his composure and focus on the road ahead.


In the back seat, Mohit's hands were everywhere, exploring every curve and crevice of Shweta's body with a confident and insistent touch. His lips trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck, his tongue teasing her earlobe with a skill that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her veins. One hand cupped her breast, his thumb circling her nipple through the thin fabric of her bralette, while the other slipped between her thighs, his fingers deftly parting her folds and delving into her wetness.



Shweta was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, her mind screaming for her to stop this madness, but her body betraying her with every touch. She tried to divert her attention, looking out the window at the passing scenery, but the sensations overwhelming her senses made it impossible to think straight. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her heart racing as Mohit's fingers moved in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her pulse. As if sensing her inner turmoil, Mohit leaned in closer, his voice a low, sensual murmur in her ear. "Just let go, Shweta. Raj cannot see us back here. Enjoy the ride."

Shweta's eyes fluttered closed, her body responding to his touch with a willingness that surprised even her. She stole a glance at Raj, seeing a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or a deeper understanding of the dynamics at play. He remained focused on the road, but Shweta could sense his awareness of the charged atmosphere in the back seat, the tension that hung heavy in the air.

Rashmi, noticing Shweta's growing discomfort and arousal, turned to her with a wicked grin. "Enjoying yourself, Shweta?" she teased, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and something more primal. "Remember, no one can see us back here. Just let yourself go."

Shweta blushed deeply, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. She tried to adjust her pallu, attempting to cover Mohit's hand as it rubbed her pussy through her bralette, but Rashmi made it worse when she grabbed the strap of Shweta's bralette and pulled it down. As soon as she did that, Shweta's breast spilled out, the cool air of the car caressing her exposed skin, sending a new wave of sensations through her body.



Danny, seeing this, gave a wicked smile, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that was both intimidating and alluring. He patted Shweta's thighs, a gesture that spoke volumes, almost saying, "We own you, slut. And we will enjoy you one by one."


Shweta's breath hitched, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through her veins. She looked towards Komilla, seeking some semblance of support or guidance, but Komilla only offered an erotic smile, her eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and something more primal. Komilla's presence was both reassuring and unnerving, her confident demeanor a stark contrast to Shweta's nervousness. As for Mohit, his desires heightened by the intimate encounter, adjusted his shorts, freeing his cock from its confines. He pressed it against Shweta's ass, the hard length of him a testament to his arousal and need. Shweta stiffened, her body tensing at the unexpected contact, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.


Mohit, sensing her hesitation, leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "Just relax, Shweta. Let me in," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual plea. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pressing against her, seeking entry.



Shweta's mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations that left her dizzy and disoriented. She wanted to give in, to let herself go and embrace the pleasure that awaited her, but a lingering sense of reluctance held her back. Mohit, misinterpreting her silence as consent, thrust forward, his cock pushing against her resistant flesh.



A sharp pain shot through Shweta, a mix of discomfort and pleasure that left her gasping. Mohit, realizing her unwillingness, pulled back, a frustrated groan escaping his lips. "Fuck, Shweta. Just let go," he muttered, his hands gripping her hips with a possessive intensity.


Before he could make another attempt, Komilla's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, a low, warning whisper. "Wait, Mohit. We're almost at the farmhouse. And remember, Shweta is ours for four days. There's plenty of time to explore and enjoy." Mohit then pushed shweta a bit forward as if she was leaning on the seat before her. He now removed shweta's pallu entirely and freed both of her boobs and started to squeeze them harder and at the same time started rubbing his dick on shweta's pussy. Komilla was bit shocked to see this and looked towards Rashmi. She smiled and told Komilla "let him finish fast". 

The pace with which Mohit was rubbing his dick in Shweta's ass has now increased a lot. After 5-6 more rubs mohit screamed out " Ahhhhhhhh" and he ejaculated on Shweta's ass and the semen started to roll down through her thighs. Hearing Mohit's Sound Raj tried to turn to which he was diverted by Rashmi saying your wife is quite heavy. Even mohit is now unable to carry her it seems and laughed loudly. 

As they neared the farmhouse, the car slowed, and the passengers began to stir, adjusting their clothing and composure. Shweta, still flushed and breathless from the intimate encounter, tried to smooth her saree, but Mohit's hand on her thigh kept her rooted to the spot.


"Almost there, Shweta," Mohit murmured, his voice a low, sensual promise. "And then, the real fun begins."
With those words, a shiver of anticipation ran down Shweta's spine, a mix of fear and excitement that left her on the edge of her seat, eager to see what the night would bring. 

[mahamatherchod]

wer is updates, too much slow, even the story disappears despite bookmark of tab

[Indian True Lust stories]

wer is updates, too much slow, even the story disappears despite bookmark of tab

Please have patience brother. You will be satisfied with the coming parts. I try to generate images as per the story so it takes time

[hotandluking]

Just found this story,in the middle of it,great erotica.
Thanks for the effort.

[Indian True Lust stories]

As the night deepened, the farmhouse became a playground of pleasures, a sanctuary where desires were explored and boundaries were tested. Shweta, with Raj by her side, stepped into this world with an open heart and a willing spirit, ready to embrace the unknown and the pleasures that awaited her.

Raj, feeling the weight of the day, decided to take a shower to refresh himself. As the water cascaded over his body, he let out a sigh of relief, the tension of the journey slowly melting away. He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, and made his way to the bedroom. There, he found a newspaper left on the bed, a remnant of the previous occupants. He settled into a chair, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the pages as he began to read.

Meanwhile, Shweta, exhausted from the long trip and the intense encounter with Mohit, retreated to the bathroom. The warm water of the shower enveloped her, a soothing balm to her aching muscles and weary soul. As she lathered her body, her hands lingered on the places where Mohit had touched her, the memory of his passion still fresh in her mind.

Her fingers traced the contours of her body, exploring the curves and valleys that had been awakened by his touch. Unconsciously, her hand moved between her thighs, her fingers finding the sensitive flesh that still throbbed with desire. She let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by the spray of the shower, as she began to stroke herself, her body responding with a hunger that surprised her.

The touch of an unknown person in her husband's presence had left her with a sense of liberation, a freedom to explore her desires without the usual constraints. Her fingers moved with a newfound confidence, teasing and exploring, building the pleasure with each passing moment. She inserted two fingers into her wetness, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The water from the shower mixed with her arousal, creating a slick, inviting warmth that heightened her senses.

As she continued to finger herself, her other hand found its way to her breasts, squeezing and teasing the sensitive nipples until they stood erect and aching. She pinched them gently, the sharp pain mixing with the pleasure, sending jolts of electricity straight to her core. Her fingers moved faster, deeper, her body arching with the intensity of the sensations.



With a sudden surge of boldness, she inserted a third finger, the stretch and fill sending her over the edge. Her body trembled as the orgasm built, her muscles clenching and releasing with each wave of pleasure. She bit her lip to stifle her cries, her body shaking with the force of her release. The waterfall of her orgasm left her breathless, her body vibrating with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Shweta leaned against the shower wall, her body slick with water and sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The intensity of the experience left her dazed, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. She took a deep breath, her body still tingling with the remnants of her climax, and began to wash away the evidence of her pleasure.

As she stepped out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her body, the soft fabric a comforting embrace. She took a moment to compose herself, her mind still reeling from the intensity of her experience. She applied lotion to her legs, the cool, soothing touch a welcome contrast to the heat of her body.

Just as she finished, she heard Raj's voice calling from outside the bathroom. "Shweta, how much longer will you be? I'm getting hungry, and I think dinner is about to start."


Shweta took a deep breath, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. Her saree and panties, spoiled by Mohit's passion, lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. She knew she couldn't wear them again without washing them, and the thought of Raj seeing the stains filled her with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

She quickly washed her clothes, her hands trembling slightly as she rinsed away the evidence of Mohit's desire. As she hung them up to dry, she wrapped the towel more securely around her body, ensuring that she was covered from boobs to her ass.

Raj called out again, his voice tinged with a hint of impatience. "Shweta, are you almost done? Mohit is here to escort us to dinner."

Shweta's heart raced as she opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the room where Raj and Mohit were waiting. She saw the hunger in Mohit's eyes, the unspoken promise of more to come, and felt a thrill of anticipation course through her veins.

[Indian True Lust stories]

Raj, ever the observant husband, noticed the tension in the room and the way Mohit's eyes lingered on Shweta. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Shweta, Mohit says Komilla might have some extra clothes for you. He's going to check with her."

Mohit nodded, his smile wicked and knowing. "Yes, I'll be right back with something for you to wear. Komilla has a few things that might fit you, though I can't promise they'll be perfect."

With that, Mohit left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Shweta let out a sigh of relief, her body still humming with the aftereffects of her shower and the promise of what was to come.

Raj approached her, his arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace. "Are you okay, Shweta? You seem a bit flushed."

Shweta nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine, Raj. Just a bit overwhelmed, that's all."

Just then, Mohit returned, a bralette and a small skirt in his hand. He held them up, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Komilla said these should fit you. Though I must say, I think you'd look even better in nothing at all."

Shweta blushed, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. She took the clothes from Mohit, her fingers brushing against his, sending a spark of electricity through her body.

"Thank you, Mohit," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Mohit smiled, his eyes never leaving hers. "My pleasure, Shweta. Always my pleasure."

As Shweta hurried towards the balcony, her heart raced with a mix of excitement and apprehension. The towel wrapped around her body clung to her curves, the fabric barely concealing her nakedness. She moved with a sense of urgency, her bare feet padding softly against the cool tiles of the floor. The balcony, a small, intimate space, seemed to beckon her, offering a moment of respite from the charged atmosphere inside the room.

Mohit, ever the observant and opportunistic lover, noticed her movement and followed her with a predatory grace. His eyes, dark and intense, never left her as he approached, his presence a tangible force that seemed to fill the small space. The balcony, barely large enough for one person to stand comfortably, became a cramped, intimate enclosure as he joined her, his body pressing close to hers.

Shweta's breath hitched as Mohit stood behind her, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. She could feel the heat of his body, the firm press of his chest against her back, and the hard length of him against her ass. He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot and seductive. "You look stunning, Shweta," he murmured, his voice a low, sensual purr. "Absolutely irresistible."



Shweta froze, her body tensing as a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. The proximity to Mohit, the intimacy of their position, and the knowledge that Raj was just a few feet away sent her senses into overdrive. She could feel the pounding of her heart, the rush of blood in her ears, and the throb of desire between her thighs. Yet, the thought of Raj discovering them in this compromising position filled her with a mix of fear and guilt.

Mohit, sensing her hesitation, began to explore her body with a confident, possessive touch. His hands roamed over her shoulders, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her neck before tangling in her hair. He pulled her head back gently, exposing the vulnerable column of her throat. His lips found her pulse point, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.



Raj Saw something was going on in the balcony but could not get a better view of the thing So he thought of seeing what Mohit is playing with.

Raj : " Shweta darling, I am going downstairs. I am very hungry, You come with Mohit. "

Saying this Raj hid himself in the bathroom where a small window was there on the top through which a proper view of the balcony is visible without letting anyone know about his presence.

Shweta's eyes fluttered closed, her mind a whirlwind of sensations and thoughts. She could feel the roughness of Mohit's stubble against her sensitive skin, the wet heat of his mouth, and the firm press of his body against hers. Her nipples hardened, pressing against the towel, aching for his touch. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as his hands moved lower, his fingers brushing against the swell of her breasts.


Mohit's other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She could feel the hard length of his cock, the promise of pleasure that left her breathless with anticipation. He ground against her, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body, making her ache with need.


Shweta's hands gripped the balcony railing, her knuckles turning white as she tried to maintain some semblance of control. Her body betrayed her, arching back into Mohit's touch, inviting more. She could feel the dampness between her thighs, the evidence of her arousal, and the growing need for release. 

Mohit's lips moved from her neck to her ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. "You want this, Shweta," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive promise. "You want me to take you right here, right now. Don't deny it."

Shweta : " Please leave me Mohit, You are my friend Komilla's Husband. You should not be doing this with me. Moreover if Raj see us like this he will be extremely sad" 

Shweta's mind raced, a battle of desire and reason. She knew she should push him away, should maintain some sense of decency and loyalty to Raj. Yet, the allure of Mohit's touch, the promise of pleasure, and the thrill of the forbidden were too intoxicating to resist. She let out a soft, shuddering breath, her body melting into his embrace.




Mohit took her response as encouragement, his hands growing bolder, his touches more insistent. He untied the towel, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her naked body to the cool night air. His hands roamed over her curves, exploring every inch of her flesh with a reverent touch. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples, eliciting gasps of pleasure from her lips.



Shweta's head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes closed as she surrendered to the sensations. Mohit's mouth found hers in a passionate, hungry kiss, his tongue exploring her depths, tasting her, claiming her. She kissed him back with equal fervor, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.



Mohit's hands moved lower, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass before sliding between her thighs. He found her wet and ready, her folds slick with desire. He teased her entrance, his fingers circling her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. Shweta bucked against his touch, her hips moving of their own accord, seeking more.


Mohit chuckled against her lips, a low, knowing sound. "You're so wet, Shweta. So ready for me." He slipped a finger inside her, then another, stretching her, preparing her for his cock. 

Shweta moaned, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh Mooohitttt, shhhhhhh" her body clenching around his fingers, her hips moving in a rhythmic dance of desire. 

Meantime Shweta didn't realized that she is completely naked on the balcony in Mohit's grip and the towel which was barely covering her up is now lying on the balcony floor under Mohit's feet. She was soo lost in Mohit's touch all that she can say is " Mohit, Mohit,, no Mohit aahhhhhhhhh" 



The sound of a door opening and closing reached their ears, a distant footstep approaching them, but Mohit didn't paid it any mind. Shweta was resisting but her body was not in her control. Her body was lost in a world of pleasure and passion, where nothing else mattered. Mohit continued to finger her, his thumb circling her clit, building her pleasure with each stroke.

Shweta's body tensed, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she neared the edge of orgasm. Mohit, sensing her impending release, increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb pressing down on her clit, sending her spiraling over the edge. 

Shweta : Mohit aaaahhhhhhhhh (She cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation, her body shaking with the force of her release she sprayed a lot of fluid on Mohit while having a massive orgasm).

As the waves of pleasure subsided, Shweta leaned against Mohit, her body still shaking because of the orgasm she had just now. Mohit stood up, and said "That was incredible, Shweta," he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "And we're just getting started."

Suddenly a voice said " It seems you guys are enjoying well already"



Shweta's eyes fluttered open, her mind suddenly returned to reality. The cool night air against her naked skin and the firm press of Mohit's body against hers brought her back to the present. She turned and saw it was Komilla who was standing there with a mischievous smile on her face.

Shweta : " Komilla it is not what you think , it's an accidental mistake "

Komilla : " Relax Shweta, nothing has happened. There are lot of dicks here to play with"

Shweta was ashamed to hear this. Komilla patted Mohit and asked him to come for dinner and informed Shweta that she has brought a dress for the night to surpass for shweta. And she has to adjust in that or else she has to stay naked. Shweta embarrassed and still cannot meet Komilla's eyes said in a low voice " I will adjust myself, just a matter of tonight".

After half an hour Shweta joined the reaming team for dinner. The dress which Komilla had left for her was a tank top and a short. Everyone's eyes were glued to her as the dress was barely covering up her curves. 

 

[Shivani sharma]

Amazing

[Xossiy]

Bro where are you create this ai imege

[Indian True Lust stories]

Next Update

Inside Komilla’s sun-drenched farmhouse lawn, Rashmi traced a finger through spilled jam on the marble counter. "Someone’s eager," she purred, nodding toward Mohit, who’d just crushed a strawberry with unnecessary force. Arjun snorted into his coffee, while Danny leaned back, chair creaking under his weight. "Eager? He’s been dreaming of licking Shweta's cherries since dawn." Mohit smirked, wiping juice from his chin. "Breakfast shouldn’t be boring." Komilla shot them a warning look as Raj shuffled in, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Rashmi : Hii Raj, how was sleep last night ? And where is your hot wife ?

Raj: She is sleeping like an ass from last night. Hope she wakes up soon and join us for breakfast.

Danny: Hell yaa. Mohit said she has a hell of an ass smooth like butter ( and started laughing)

Mohit: common guys don't make it hard for Raj to swallow his breakfast. Bdw Shweta has a heavy ass I know that for sure. I lifted her and carried her for long. 

The mood shifted when Shweta entered, She was dbangd in Komilla’s borrowed clothes, which clung to her body in all the right places.

 The tank top, thin and flimsy, strained against her boobs, leaving little to the imagination. Her dark nipples were clearly visible beneath the fabric, a tantalizing hint of what lay beneath. The shorts she wore were equally revealing, barely containing the curve of her hips and the swell of her ass. Every movement she made was a seductive dance.

Shweta was standing there will a juice glass and smiling towards everyone. 

"Delicious," Danny murmured under his breath, his eyes roaming over Shweta’s body with unbridled lust. His comment earned him muffled laughter from the others, a shared understanding of the raw desire that hung heavy in the air.

Raj, who had been sipping his coffee with a semblance of calm, froze mid-sip. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the mug, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his wife. Rashmi, ever the opportunist, sidled up to Raj, her breath warm against his ear. "Leave the dessert for others, Raj. Holi is for bachelors," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Her hand trailed down his arm, a possessive gesture that left no room for misunderstanding. "Stick with me."

Raj’s response was a mix of confusion and resignation. He set his mug down with a clink, his eyes flickering between Shweta and Rashmi, unsure of where his loyalties lay in this moment of heightened sensuality. 

After breakfast, the atmosphere shifted from one of casual morning routine to a charged anticipation. Komilla, ever the orchestrator of their pleasures, clapped her hands sharply, the sound echoing through the room with a commanding finality. "Change for Holi! Unlimited drinks, unlimited fun!" Her voice was a sultry promise, laced with the allure of untold delights and forbidden pleasures.

The words hung in the air, a challenge and an invitation all at once. Rashmi, with a wicked grin, vanished into a cropped tee and denim shorts, her choice of attire a deliberate tease, designed to highlight her curves and leave little to the imagination. The fabric hugged her body, accentuating every line and contour, a visual feast for the eyes.

Komilla : "Shweta, my dear, are you ready for a day of fun and frivolity?" Komilla asked, her voice a sultry purr as she approached, a tray of colorful powders and water guns in her hands.

Shweta nodded, a small, tentative smile playing on her lips. "I think so. What do we do?"



Komilla's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Oh, it's simple. We play with colors, we touch, we tease, and we explore. It's all about letting go and embracing the moment."



Rashmi, standing nearby, chimed in, her voice a low, seductive murmur. "And don't worry, Shweta. We'll take good care of you."


Rashmi vanished into a cropped tee and denim shorts. Shweta hesitated, then retreated to fetch her washed saree—the same one stained with Mohit’s release yesterday. She returned transformed: sindur vermilion on her forehead, mangalsutra gold against her throat, bangles chiming with every step. A bride ready for ruin.

[Shivani sharma]

Can't wait for next

[Rockket Raja]

These women will slowly change swetha to a full fledged slut. Awesome

[Abhisheksonia]

काश श्वेता के8 जगह मेरी वाइफ होती और मैं भी राज की तरह देख देख कर मजे लेता

[blackdesk]

Sexy story. Thank you

[Indian True Lust stories]

Next Update

As Shweta approached the poolside all of them stopped their conversations and was gazing her beauty. The air felt heavy, like right before a storm. Komilla walked around Shweta, her eyes sharp like a knife.

"Such a devoted wife," Komilla said, her voice sweet but full of poison. "But I saw you in the car with Mohit, grinding your ass on his lap when Raj was just outside. And later? On my balcony, completely dressed as a new born baby." She stopped and smiled. "If I hadn't come..."

Danny laughed, a dirty sound. "Mohit would have planted more than just holi stains, no?"

Arjun laughed and leaned against the wall saying "I bet her sindur would have smudged everywhere. Thankfully you intervened komilla, otherwise Mohit would have played holi before all of us"

Shweta's face turned red. Her hands held her pallu so tight her knuckles were white. She felt trapped.

Komilla dipped her hand in a plate of bright red gulal. She walked to Shweta. Before Shweta could move, Komilla’s hand went to the side of her neck, her thumb pressing right on her pulse point. She smeared the red powder there, slow and hard.

"You wear red so well, sauteli," Komilla whispered in her ear.


Shweta gasped, her body stiff. The touch was not a touch. It was a brand.


Danny moved next. He had blue gulal in his palm. He didn't throw it. He stepped behind Shweta. His other hand grabbed her waist, pulling her back against him. She could feel his chest on her back. He brought his blue hand around and slapped the powder hard on her flat stomach.


"Oops," he laughed, his voice right next to her ear. "Colour got a bit low."


Shweta whimpered. The slap stung a little, but it was the shock that made her shake. His hand stayed on her stomach, rubbing the blue powder in circles, spreading it, making her skin tingle.


Arjun came from the front. He had green gulal. He looked at her, a hungry look in his eyes. He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him.


"Open your mouth," he said, his voice low.


Shweta shook her head, tears in her eyes.


"Arjun, don't," she begged.


But he just smiled. He pinched her cheek, hard, making her gasp. As her mouth opened, he blew a big puff of green powder right inside. It filled her mouth, coating her tongue, making her cough. It tasted dry and chemical. She felt violated.


"Swallow it," Komilla ordered from the side, watching her with cold eyes.


Shweta coughed again, some of the powder flying out. She felt sick.


Rashmi, who was watching with a crazy smile, now joined in. She had a bottle of water. She poured it all over Shweta's chest. The thin, light-coloured saree stuck to her body like a second skin. It became see-through, showing the black lace of her bra. Her nipples were hard, pointing through the wet fabric.





"Now we can see the real colours," Rashmi giggled.


Danny's hand was still on her stomach. Now he slid it up, under her wet saree, his rough fingers touching the soft skin above her navel.


"Look at that," he breathed. "So soft."


Shweta tried to push his hand away, but Komilla grabbed her wrists from behind.


"Na na na," Komilla scolded. "No touching. Only receiving."


Arjun's hands went to her breasts. He didn't waste time. He grabbed them hard, one in each hand, squeezing them through the wet saree and bra. His thumbs found her nipples and rubbed them back and forth, making them even harder.


"See? She likes it," Arjun said to the others.


Shweta shut her eyes, a tear escaping and running down her cheek, mixing with the red gulal on her neck. Her body was betraying her. A hot feeling was spreading from her chest, down to her stomach.


Danny's hand moved lower. It went past the waistband of her saree, under her petticoat. His fingers explored, searching. He found the edge of her panties. He traced the line of lace with his fingertip, so slow it was torture.


"Let's see if she's wet from the water, or from something else," Danny chuckled.


Shweta squirmed, a desperate sound coming from her throat. "Please... stop..."

Rashmi laughed and poured more water on her legs, making the fabric cling to her thighs. Komilla let go of one of Shweta's hands and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back.

"Look at your husband," Komilla commanded.

Shweta opened her eyes. Raj was standing there, watching everything. His face was pale, his eyes wide with horror and shock. He looked like a statue. He wasn't moving. He wasn't saying anything. Just watching.


"See? He's enjoying the show," Komilla lied in her ear. "He always wanted to see you like this."


Danny's fingers finally pushed aside the thin fabric of her panties. One finger slid inside her folds, finding her clit. He rubbed it once, twice, a slow, firm circle.


Shweta's whole body jerked. A gasp escaped her lips. It wasn't a gasp of pain. It was a gasp of pure, unwanted pleasure.


"Found it," Danny said with a grin.


Arjun was still mauling her breasts, his hands rough and possessive. Komilla was still holding her hair, forcing her to watch her husband's blank face. Rashmi was now pouring the last of the water over her ass, her hand following the water, squeezing Shweta's butt cheek.


They were all over her. Hands were everywhere. On her neck, her breasts, her stomach, between her legs, on her ass. They were not fucking her, but they were owning her. Every touch was a claim. Every laugh was a victory.


Danny's finger started moving faster, rubbing her clit in a rhythm that made her legs weak. She could feel the pressure building inside her, a wave she couldn't stop.


"No... please... no..." she moaned, but it was a weak sound.


"Let go, jaaneman," Arjun whispered, squeezing her nipple hard at the same time Danny's finger pressed down.


The wave crashed. Her body arched, a silent scream on her lips. Her hips bucked against Danny's hand. For a horrible, wonderful second, her mind went blank. All she could feel was the pleasure ripping through her.


And then, it was over.


They let her go.


Danny pulled his hand out. Arjun let go of her breasts. Komilla released her hair. Shweta fell to her knees on the floor, a mess of colours and wet fabric. She was shaking.


Raj was still just standing there. His face was a mask of nothingness. He had watched his wife be used, had watched her orgasm from another man's touch. Komilla looked down at Shweta, a satisfied smile on her face.

Rashmi’s laughter was a sharp, drunken crack in the humid air. She didn't walk; she stumbled, a whirlwind of colour and intent, straight into Raj's lap. Her body, slick with a sheen of sweat and smeared powder, slammed against his. she spilled while stumbling some of the drink on Raj's shirt and colours too while she fell on him.

"Drink, hero!" she commanded, her voice a husky giggle.


She didn't wait for an answer. Her free hand, sticky with blue gulal, grabbed the back of his neck, her fingers digging into his skin. She pressed the rim of a wine glass to his lips, tilting it sharply. The deep red liquid flooded his mouth.


Then came the real assault. Her hips, clad only in thin, wet fabric, ground against him. It wasn't a suggestion; it was a statement. The first grind was a hard, deliberate circle, her pelvic bone crushing against his. He choked on the wine, his eyes flying wide in shock.

"Swallow it, Raju," Rashmi breathed, her face inches from his.

He did, a mechanical gulp. His eyes were already starting to lose focus, the alcohol hitting his system like a punch.

She ground against him a second time, slower this time, a filthy, rhythmic rocking that was impossible to ignore. He could feel the heat of her through his clothes. His body, betraying his mind, started to respond. Another glass of wine was pressed to his lips, and this time, he drank without being told. The world was beginning to blur at the edges.

"Pool time!" Komilla sang out, her voice cutting through the haze. It was a declaration, not a suggestion.


She moved with predatory grace, her target clear. She didn't grab Shweta's arm. She snagged the dangling end of her pallu, the silk already damp and clinging. With a sharp, yanking motion, she started pulling, dragging a stunned and silent Shweta across the patio like a doll.


Rashmi, seeing the game, disentangled herself from a now-pliant Raj and skipped after them.

 "Let's help the bride get ready for her bath!" she chirped.


She caught up to Shweta and her hands went straight for the shoulder of her saree. With a deliberate, teasing slowness, she peeled the wet, clinging silk down Shweta's arm. The fabric reluctantly released her skin, exposing the trembling curve of her shoulder and boobs.


"See?" Rashmi whispered, her lips brushing against Shweta's ear. "Your sindur is crying." She traced a single finger down Shweta's collarbone, following a path where the red vermilion had mixed with sweat and water, creating a thin, dripping line that looked terrifyingly like a trail of fresh blood.

Komilla was on her other side. Her eyes were dark, fixed on Shweta's chest. She didn't hesitate. Her hand cupped Shweta's breast through the sheer, wet blouse, her thumb instantly finding the peak of her nipple and pressing down.

"Mohit was crazy about these cherries yesterday," Komilla murmured, her voice a low, possessive hum. "He said they tasted like candy. Should we all have a bite?"

The answer was a splash. With a collective shove, they sent Shweta stumbling backward into the pool. The shock of the cold water stole her breath as she went under, a silent scream swallowed by the chlorine-blue water.


She surfaced, gasping and sputtering, her hair plastered to her face. Before she could get her bearings, three big splashes announced the arrival of the men. Mohit, Arjun, and Danny plunged in, their laughter echoing off the tiles.

Arjun was on her in a heartbeat. He was a shark, and she was his prey. He grabbed her arm and spun her, slamming her back against the smooth, wet tiles of the pool edge. The impact knocked the air from her lungs. He pressed his full body against hers, pinning her with his weight. She could feel every muscle, every contour of his chest and stomach. And she could feel his erection, a thick, hard ridge pressing insistently against her thigh through his swim trunks.

"Holi is about getting coloured everywhere, na?" he growled, his voice a low rumble against her ear.

He scooped a handful of bright green *gulal from a floating tray and, instead of throwing it, he smeared it directly onto her bare midriff. His palm was rough, the action possessive. He painted her stomach in broad, aggressive strokes, the colour shocking against her pale skin.


His hand didn't stop. It slid down, his fingers hooking under the delicate waistband of her petticoat, which was now the only thing covering her lower body.


"Let's see how sacred this little gold chain really is," he whispered, his fingers toying with the mangalsutra that rested on her hip.


Shweta bucked, a desperate, panicked movement, trying to dislodge him. But she was trapped. Danny materialized behind her, his arms like steel bands. He seized both her wrists in one of his large hands and yanked them behind her back, arching her body painfully. His breath was a hot, sour cloud in her ear.


"Relax, baby," he slurred, his voice thick with liquor and lust. "Your dear husband is too wasted to give a damn. Look at him."


He forced her head to turn. Through the water and her own tears, she could see Raj. He was slumped in a chair, a fresh glass in his hand, his head lolling to one side. His eyes were open, but they were vacant, staring at nothing.


Mohit swam up in front of her, a look of pure, predatory hunger on his face. He reached out and, with a single, brutal tug, ripped the remaining part of her saree—the pallu—away. It floated for a second before sinking. Her thin, wet blouse was now the only barrier, and it was completely transparent, clinging to her breasts like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.


"Absolutely fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine awe.

He reached out and took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He didn't just touch them; he rolled them, pinched them, pulling and teasing them until they were hard, aching points. As he did, a shower of bright orange powder rained down from above, coating her face and shoulders in a fine, stinging dust.

Click. 

The sharp sound of a phone camera cut through the splashing. Komilla was floating a few feet away, her phone held up, her expression one of cool, detached amusement.


On the pool deck, Rashmi had climbed back onto Raj's lap. She was straddling him, her back to the pool, facing Komilla's phone.


"Look how she's enjoying it, Raj!" Rashmi moaned, her voice loud and theatrical. She began to roll her hips, a slow, exaggerated simulation of sex. "Look at your wife! She's having the time of her life!"


Raj's jaw was clenched so tight it looked painful. But his eyelids were heavy, half-closed. The wine glass dangled from his limp fingers, a tiny amount of red liquid spilling onto the patio stones.


Shweta thrashed in the water, a useless, desperate motion. Her legs, streaked with dissolving colours, clamped together in a final, futile attempt at protection.


"Stop—please—" The words were a choked whisper, torn from her throat.


The plea died as Danny wedged his knee between her thighs from behind. He forced her legs apart with his powerful leg, his knee pressing up hard against her most sensitive place.


"Begging just makes my dick harder," he panted, grinding his knee against her in a lewd, rhythmic motion.


The water around them was no longer blue. It was a murky, swirling mess of red, green, orange, and purple, a disgusting soup of their violation.


Arjun's attention returned to the mangalsutra. He grabbed the thin gold chain, his fingers closing around it. He pulled, hard.


"Gold looks so much better on the floor," he said, his voice cold.


With a final, vicious tug, he snapped the chain. The small black beads and gold pendant broke free and plopped into the cloudy water, disappearing without a trace. It was a sinking sin, a visual end to her vows.


Komilla swam closer, lazily swirling a glass of wine she must have brought to the pool's edge.

"Don't worry about him," she lied, her voice smooth as silk. "Raj won't wake up for hours. He's completely gone."


But Raj wasn't gone. On the chair, as Rashmi arched her back and moaned for the camera, his fingers twitched. It was a small, almost invisible movement, but it was there. Rashmi saw it. She grabbed his limp hand and dragged it up, forcing it inside her own shirt, pressing his palm against her breast.


"She's loving this!" Rashmi cried out, aiming Komilla's phone at Shweta's tear-streaked, terrified face. "Tell them, Shweta! Tell them how much you love it!"


Mohit, tired of waiting, seized a handful of Shweta's hair at the roots. He wrenched her head back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of her throat.


"Open," he ordered.

He picked up a half-full bottle of red wine from the pool edge and tilted it, pouring the dark red liquid directly into her mouth. It gushed in, too much.

Danny's hands were on her waist under the water.

"Still wearing a petticoat?" he laughed. "Such a traditional slut."


His fingers hooked into the string. With a loud riiiip, he tore it. The wet cloth floated away. Her pussy was now naked in the cloudy water.


Arjun whistled. He smeared purple powder on her stomach.


"I wonder if her husband ever made her this wet," he said.


Shweta's knees got weak. She started to sink, but Mohit held her up. His thumb found her clit under the water and rubbed it in slow, hard circles.


A sound came from her throat. A moan. It was a sound of pleasure, and she hated herself for it.
"Shhh," Komilla said softly, swimming closer. "Just enjoy your real wedding night."

Rashmi’s camera phone zoomed in close, right on Shweta's shaking lips.

"Look at her—she's dripping!" Rashmi announced to the phone screen.


She moved Raj's limp hand higher up her own leg, right near her pussy. His nails, not moving, dug into her skin. It was sharp enough to make little red dots of blood.


But Rashmi just moaned louder for the video.


"Raj is so bad at pretending to be drunk," she whispered against his open mouth. His eyelid twitched. Just a little.


In the pool, Shweta's back slammed against the hard tiles. Danny was on her, pinning both her wrists above her head with one hand.


"Time for the real colours," he grunted.


With his other hand, he grabbed the front of her wet blouse and ripped it open. The buttons popped off and sank. The broken chain of her mangalsutra slithered into the water.


Arjun grabbed a pot of thick, oily yellow paste. He poured it right between her boobs. It was slow and thick, like honey. It oozed down her ribs, leaving a hot, sticky trail.


Mohit leaned in and caught a yellow trickle with his tongue. Then he opened his mouth and bit down on her nipple. Hard.


Shweta let out a sharp shriek that bounced off the walls.


Komilla clapped her hands, loud and happy.


"Perfect! You two are in sync! Should we take a vote on who gets to strip her next?"


Rashmi turned the camera, getting a super close-up of Shweta's face. She filmed the smeared red sindur and her long eyelashes that were wet and fluttering.


"Tell me, dear bahu," Rashmi cooed in a sweet, mean voice. "Does your Raj lick you this slow?"


The camera lens got a little foggy from the heat. Mohit's mouth was moving lower, kissing down her stomach. Under the dirty water, his fingers found her pussy and spread her lips open.


Shweta gasped. The sound was loud in the quiet air. Her thighs started to shake.


Komilla swam right up to her, her face close. She was holding a small silver key, letting it dangle from her fingers.


"The farmhouse's basement," she said softly, pressing the cold, wet key into Shweta's hand. "We keep toys down there. For wives who forget their promises."


Shweta's fingers closed around the key, the metal digging into her palm.


But Danny saw it. He snatched it away with a dirty laugh.


"Oh, this is good," he said. "Let's see if she begs prettier when a vibe is buzzing inside her."


Mohit grabbed Shweta by the arm and dragged her out of the pool. She was a mess. Her saree was floating in the water torn in multiple places. Her panty dragged to a corner exposing most of her ass. Her bra strips are broken and  the wet bra is just handing on her nipples. 





Rashmi followed with the camera. She zoomed in on Shweta's ass, on how the wet silk was stuck to it, showing the shape and even the thin line of her thong.

"Such a modern bride," Arjun taunted, coming up to pinch her side. "I bet your Raj never tore your clothes off like a real man."

While all the chaos was happening to Shweta in the water, Rashmi was busy with Raj.

"You're staring," Rashmi said with a dirty smile.

She climbed right onto Raj's lap. Her hands went to his shorts. She opened the button and pulled his dick out. It was soft in her hand at first. She started to stroke it, slow and easy, her fingers moving up and down the shaft. She was looking right at his face.

"Hey guys!" Rashmi called out to the others in the pool. "He's getting a hard-on! I think he's enjoying the show!" She laughed. "He likes watching his wife get tossed around. Keep going! Don't stop until he cums!"

Her thigh moved against his lap, rubbing up and down. The thought of fighting back just melted away.

"See how wet she is?" Rashmi purred, nodding her head towards Shweta in the pool. Shweta's saree was floating away like trash, and her bra was ripped open, her breasts completely out. "And you're just sitting here, getting hard."

"Don't worry," Rashmi whispered in Raj's ear. She pushed her hips down, grinding on his hard dick in a slow, dirty circle. "I'll make sure you enjoy the show properly."

Behind them, Komilla giggled. She was holding her phone up like a professional, moving the camera back and forth. First, she filmed Shweta being held down in the pool. Then, she filmed Raj sitting with his dick out in Rashmi's hand. She was making a movie of their shame.

Rashmi kept stroking him, her hand moving faster. She was grinding her hips on his lap, matching the rhythm of her hand. Raj's head was leaned back, his mouth open. His eyes were half-closed, but they were still looking at the pool. At his wife.

Finally, his body stiffened. A low groan escaped his lips. He came, his release spurting out and streaking Rashmi's inner thighs. It was warm and wet, and it made the silk of her dress stick to her skin in a very dirty way.

When Rashmi stood up, Shweta was lying sprawled on the tiles by the edge of the pool. Her beautiful saree was in tatters around her. Her chest was moving up and down, she was breathing so hard.

Rashmi walked over to her. She slapped Shweta's bare ass, hard. It made a loud smack sound and left a bright red handprint on her skin.

"We'll buy you new clothes," Rashmi said, stepping right over Shweta's shaking legs. "After all, you earned it."

She gave a little wink. It was like a knife twisting in Raj's gut as he watched her walk away.
"Come join us if you want the real thing, sweetheart," Rashmi called over her shoulder to Shweta. "Or clean up your drunk husband. Your choice."

Shweta's body ached. It was a deep, painful ache she hadn't felt in years. But under the pain, there was a feeling of being so, so tired, and a deep, hot shame that burned her.

She looked over at Raj. He was still slumped in his chair. His pants were still open, his dick hanging out. His face was blank, like he didn't know where he was.

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