Adultery Nivetha (Nivi) - Power and Submissions of working wife (25 Oct 2025 - Chapter 105)

[desiass]

Update please

[nivithenaughty]

Update please

Finally someone cared. I have written future chapters but nobody commented anything for my past chapters so i have no idea im doing good or bad need to change anything so i was hesitated to post more.

[desiass]

You are doing good please continue some stories take time but it is good

[nivithenaughty]

Hey guys....
Happy diwali to you...
Sorry for late wish and not posting been traveling for holidays...

Here is my gift to you for the diwali


This is nivi(me) thought revealing nivi(my) look will give some context to your imagination.

Happy Holiday...

Yours,
Nivi

[desiass]

Hey guys....
Happy diwali to you...
Sorry for late wish and not posting been traveling for holidays...

Here is my gift to you for the diwali


This is nivi(me) thought revealing nivi(my) look will give some context to your imagination.

Happy Holiday...

Yours,
Nivi

Super  definitely like how I imagined nivi, homely and slutty

[Vishal Ramana]

Nivi is real power house.

[Peterparker69]

Wow.......

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 101: Trust and Triumph


Nivi stepped through the apartment door, the weight of the grocery bags pulling at her arms, the peach kurta slightly creased from the walk, the olive green leggings clinging to her legs.

 The quiet of the evening wrapped around her, the kids’ toys scattered across the living room, the faint scent of her mother-in-law’s cooking lingering in the air. Her body still hummed with the unmet desire sparked by Mohan’s flirty offer, her pussy tingling with a restless need she couldn’t act on. She set the bags down, her mind a tangle of frustration and restraint, the trolley of outfits a silent reminder of her bolder self.

As she unpacked the groceries—rice, tomatoes, mangoes—her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Rajendar’s name. Her heart skipped, surprised by the call, and she answered, her voice soft. “Mr. Rajendar? Everything okay?”

His voice came through, gruff but warm, a hint of hesitation. “Nivetha, I… I need a favor. Never asked anyone this, but I feel you’re close now. The dogs at the park—they need feeding, and I can’t go with this ankle. Can you help?” His tone was vulnerable, a rare crack in his stubborn shell.

Nivi’s chest swelled with pride, a smile spreading. I’ve earned his respect, she thought, the power of their new bond sinking in. “Of course, I’d be happy to. I’ll head there now—don’t worry.” Her voice was eager, the kurta shifting as she grabbed her bag again.

Rajendar paused, his relief audible. “Thank you. It means a lot. Biscuits are fine—they’re by the tree.” The call ended, and Nivi felt a surge of triumph, his trust a step toward Raghavan’s plan.

She slipped on sandals, the olive green leggings catching the evening light, and told her mother-in-law, “I’m off to feed Rajendar’s dogs at the park—back soon.” 

The older woman nodded, a knowing smirk on her face, her saree swishing as she stirred a pot. Nivi stepped out, the evening air cool, and took an auto to the park, the streets quieting as families settled in.

The park was calm, the tree where the dogs gathered bathed in the glow of a streetlamp. The strays bounded over, their tails wagging, recognizing her from before. She knelt, the peach kurta brushing the grass, and broke open a pack of biscuits from her bag, the crinkle loud in the stillness. “Here you go, sweeties,” she said, her voice soft, feeding them one by one, their fur warm under her fingers. The dogs ate eagerly, their eyes bright, and she smiled, the act grounding her, the craving in her body easing slightly.

As the last biscuit disappeared, an idea sparked. I’ll surprise Rajendar, she thought, wanting to deepen their bond. A good whiskey—he’d appreciate that. She pulled out her phone, scrolling to Ashok’s number, the shy member of the boys’ gang who always followed her lead. The call connected, his voice quiet but warm. “Nivi? What’s up?”

“Hey, Ashok,” she said, her tone playful. “Can you do me a favor? Buy a good whiskey—something smooth—and meet me at the park. I need it quick.” Her voice carried a hint of command, the kurta swaying as she stood.

Ashok hesitated, then agreed. “Sure, I’ll grab it. Be there in fifteen.” The call ended, and Nivi waited, petting the dogs, their nuzzles a comfort as the park grew darker.

True to his word, Ashok arrived, a bottle of premium whiskey in a paper bag, his eyes curious but obedient. “Here,” he said, handing it over, his gaze lingering on her kurta-clad figure. “Who’s this for?”
Nivi took the bottle, her smile coy. “None of your business, Ashok. Thanks for the help—now go.” Her tone was teasing but firm, the power of her control evident as she waved him off.

He grinned, his shyness melting. “Alright, boss lady. Call if you need me.” He left, his steps fading, the obedience in his eyes a small thrill.

Nivi tucked the bottle into her bag, the dogs circling one last time, and stood, the chapter ending as she prepared to leave the park, her mind on the surprise for Rajendar, the whiskey a key to his trust.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 102: A New Bond Deepens


Nivi stepped out of the park, the bottle of premium whiskey tucked securely in her bag, the evening air cool against her peach kurta, the olive green leggings shimmering faintly with each step. The dogs’ grateful nuzzles lingered in her mind, their tails wagging as she fed them, and the thrill of her plan to surprise Rajendar fueled her stride. She hailed an auto, the ride to 12B, Old Gandhi Road smooth despite the growing dusk, her heart beating with anticipation. The house came into view, its simple facade unchanged, and she stepped out, the bag heavy with purpose.

She approached the gate, Titan bounding over with a playful wag, his muscular frame nuzzling her legs as she entered with confidence. The bell rang, the sound echoing, and after a moment, Rajendar opened the door, leaning on his walking stick, his face lighting with surprise. “Nivetha? Back so soon?” His voice was gruff but warm, his bandaged ankle a reminder of his injury.

Nivi smiled, stepping inside, the kurta brushing her thighs. “The dogs are fed—I took care of them. Thought I’d check on you.” Her tone was caring, the bag rustling as she set it down.
Rajendar nodded, his eyes softening. “Thank you. That’s a relief—I’ve never asked anyone for this.” His voice carried gratitude, the stick tapping as he moved to the sofa.

She followed, pulling the whiskey bottle from her bag, presenting it with a grin. “A surprise for you.” His eyes widened, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he took it, the label gleaming in the light.

“Whiskey? Nivetha, you shouldn’t have—I’m bothered you bought this. It’s not right for you to spend on me.” His tone was protective, his hand trembling slightly on the stick.

Nivi waved off his worry, her voice reassuring. “I noticed your bottle was almost empty last night. You drank so little to save it, stuck here without going out. I wanted to help—there’s a way women can buy these days. And,” she added playfully, a naughty glint in her eye, “I drink too, you know.” Her admission was bold, the kurta swaying as she leaned closer.

Rajendar’s eyebrows rose, a faint smile breaking through. “You drink? That’s… unexpected.” His tone was curious, the stick resting against the sofa as he sat.

She nodded, settling beside him. “Occasionally. Let me serve you—rest that ankle.” She took the bottle, pouring a glass, the amber liquid glinting, and handed it to him. His thanks was heartfelt, his fingers brushing hers, a spark of connection.

“You’re too kind,” he said, sipping slowly, the whiskey warming his throat. “I’d say no to food, but…”
Nivi grinned, standing. “I insist—how about an omelet?” Before he could protest, she moved to the kitchen, the unfamiliar space a challenge again. She rummaged through the cabinets, finding eggs, onions, and a pan, the olive leggings shimmering as she worked. Rajendar watched from the sofa, guiding her. “Salt’s by the stove, oil in the corner.”

She cracked the eggs, the sizzle filling the room, and cooked a simple omelet, the aroma mingling with the whiskey’s scent. Returning with the plate, she set it before him, and he took a bite, nodding approval. “Good,” he murmured, the first drink steadying him.

They sat, the omelet half-eaten as he poured a second round, the glass clinking softly. “The park dogs—Rusty’s the bold one, Shadow’s shy,” he said, his voice loosening, the whiskey softening his edges.

Nivi smiled, sipping water. “Rusty’s a leader. Shadow warmed up to me.” Her tone was light, the kurta brushing her knees as she leaned in.

The conversation flowed, the second drink in his hand, when he paused, his eyes on her. “You mentioned you drink, right? Why not have some?” His voice was inviting, a rare openness breaking through.

Nivi thought for a moment, the craving from earlier stirring, the power of the moment tempting her. “Alright,” she said, her voice playful, standing to reach the top shelf where he pointed. “Second glass up there?”

He nodded, his smile faint. “Top shelf—been alone, so no use for it.” His words carried a hint of loneliness, his eyes following her.

She stretched, the shelf tall, and jumped slightly, her fingers grasping the glass. It was the first time she noticed Rajendar’s gaze linger on her body, the kurta lifting to reveal a glimpse of her midriff, the olive leggings accentuating her legs. He’s breaking, she thought, pride swelling, the whiskey’s influence aiding her. She wanted to push further, the power intoxicating.

Grabbing the glass, she wiped it with her dupatta, then set it aside, leaving the dupatta off her shoulder, the neckline dipping to show a noticeable cleavage. The move was deliberate, her kurta’s fabric framing her curves, and she poured a drink for herself, a third round for him.

 “Cheers,” she said, raising her glass, his eyes meeting hers with a new warmth, the chapter ending as the clink of their glasses echoed in the quiet room.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 103: Shadows of Solitude



The clink of glasses lingered in the air, the whiskey’s amber glow catching the dim light of Rajendar’s living room. Nivi sat on the worn sofa, her peach kurta soft against her skin, the olive green leggings shimmering faintly as she shifted. 

The omelet plate sat half-eaten on the table, its edges crusting, while Titan, the muscular dog, sprawled near her feet, his tail thumping lazily. Rajendar leaned back, his bandaged ankle propped on a cushion, the walking stick resting against the armrest. 

His glass gleamed in his hand, the whiskey loosening the lines on his face. Nivi’s own glass felt heavy, the liquor warm in her throat, her body still tingling from the day’s restless craving. The moment felt raw, their shared drink a bridge, her dupatta still off her shoulder, the neckline of her kurta dipping to show a hint of cleavage.

She swirled her glass, the liquid catching the light. “This whiskey’s smooth,” she said, her voice light, breaking the quiet. “Better than what Anand keeps at home.”

Rajendar chuckled, his gruff tone softening. “You’re full of surprises, Nivetha. Didn’t peg you for a whiskey girl.” His eyes flicked to her, lingering on her kurta’s neckline before meeting her gaze, a faint smile tugging his lips.

She shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “Occasionally. Keeps things interesting.” She sipped, the burn grounding her, and leaned forward, her kurta brushing her thighs. “You and these dogs, though—Titan, the park strays. What’s the story? You’re out there every weekend feeding them.”

He took a slow sip, his gaze drifting to Titan, who perked up at his name. “Dogs are loyal. They don’t judge, don’t leave.” His voice was low, a weight behind it. He paused, swirling his glass, the whiskey sloshing gently. “Started years ago. My… someone I loved, she was crazy about them. Strays, pets, didn’t matter. She’d stop on the street to pet any dog, feed them scraps. When she was gone, I kept it up. Felt like keeping her close.”

Nivi’s chest tightened, his vulnerability catching her off guard. She set her glass down, the table creaking. “That’s beautiful,” she said softly, her fingers brushing the sofa’s edge. “She must’ve been special.”

Rajendar nodded, his eyes distant. “She was. Young, full of life. Loved dogs, loved laughing. Cancer took her fast—too fast.” He took a deeper sip, his knuckles whitening on the glass. “After that, the dogs became my way of… remembering. Rusty, Shadow, the others at the park—they’re like her, in a way. Always waiting, always grateful.”

Nivi leaned closer, her kurta shifting, the olive leggings catching the light. “I get it. They’re lucky to have you.” She glanced at Titan, his dark fur gleaming, and reached to pet him, his warmth calming her. “What’s your day like, then? Dogs and work—that’s it?”

He chuckled, a rough sound, and poured another round, the bottle glinting. “Pretty much. Office keeps me busy—budgets, audits, you know. Evenings, I’m here with Titan or at the park with the strays. Whiskey helps the nights pass.” He gestured to the bottle, then sipped, his eyes meeting hers. “Not much else. Used to have friends, but… things change.”

Nivi tilted her head, her dupatta slipping further, the neckline teasing more skin. “Friends? What happened?” Her voice was gentle, curious, the whiskey warming her cheeks.

He sighed, leaning back, his stick wobbling slightly. “Was close with some guys from work, years ago. Married, kids, the whole deal. But when I stayed single, their wives started talking. Said I was trouble, a bachelor with no ties, maybe chasing their husbands or worse.” 

He snorted, a bitter edge to it. “Gossip spread, and they drifted. Easier to be alone than deal with that. Got used to it.”

Nivi’s heart sank, her fingers tightening on her glass. “That’s unfair. You’re not like that—you’re kind, steady.” She shook her head, the kurta’s hem brushing her knees. “Sounds lonely, though.”

Rajendar shrugged, his eyes on the whiskey. “It is what it is. Titan’s good company. The park dogs too.” He paused, his gaze flicking to her, softer now. “What about you? Drinking whiskey with me, showing up here—doesn’t your husband say anything?”

Nivi’s smile faded, her stomach knotting. She took a slow sip, the burn sharp, and set her glass down, her hands folding in her lap. “Anand… he doesn’t notice much. Works late, drinks more than he should, buries himself in bills or his phone. We barely talk anymore.” Her voice was low, the words spilling out. “It’s like I’m invisible at home. The kids are my world, but with him… it’s empty. Toxic, even.”

Rajendar’s brow furrowed, his glass pausing midair. “That’s rough, Nivetha. You don’t deserve that.” His tone was gruff but sincere, his eyes holding hers, steady despite the whiskey.

She nodded, her throat tight, and leaned back, the sofa creaking. “I know. Sometimes I think… it’s better to be alone, like you, than stuck in a marriage that’s failing. At least you’ve got your peace, your dogs. I’m just… holding it together for the boys.”

He leaned forward, his stick tapping the floor. “Alone’s not perfect, but yeah, no one drags you down. You’re strong, though—handling kids, work, all this.” He gestured to the files on the table, then her. “And you’re here, helping me. That’s not nothing.”

Nivi smiled, a warmth spreading through her. “Thanks. Means a lot to hear that.” She reached for the bottle, pouring them both another round, her kurta lifting slightly to show a sliver of her midriff. His eyes flicked there, quick but noticeable, and she felt a spark, the whiskey amplifying her awareness. He’s seeing me, she thought, her body tingling, the craving from earlier stirring faintly.

They sipped in silence for a moment, the room quiet except for Titan’s soft snores. Nivi broke it, her voice playful to lighten the mood. “So, no friends, just dogs and whiskey? You ever go out, have fun?”

Rajendar chuckled, relaxing into the sofa. “Fun? Not much. Used to play cards with the guys, but that stopped. Now it’s just… this.” He gestured to the room, the whiskey glass gleaming. “The dogs keep me grounded. What about you? Besides work and kids, what’s fun for Nivetha?”

She laughed, swirling her glass. “Fun’s hard to come by. The office is my escape—Ashwin’s jokes, Dinesh’s teasing, Ashok’s shy smiles. And my Instagram’s picking up—‘NiviGlow,’ ever heard of it?” She grinned, a teasing edge, the olive leggings shimmering as she crossed her legs.

He raised an eyebrow, sipping. “Instagram? Nah, not my thing. But you’re glowing here, no app needed.” His voice was gruff but warm, his eyes lingering on her kurta’s neckline again, a faint flush on his cheeks.

Nivi’s pulse quickened, the compliment hitting deep. “Thanks. It’s just… something to feel alive.” She paused, then leaned closer, her voice softer. “You should try it sometime. Share a pic of Titan—bet he’d get more likes than me.”

He laughed, a rare, full sound, and patted Titan’s head. “This guy? Maybe. He’s a charmer.” The dog stirred, nuzzling Rajendar’s hand, and the moment felt easy, their bond deepening over the shared drinks.

She sipped again, the whiskey’s warmth spreading, and glanced around the room—simple, sparse, a single photo frame on a shelf, a younger Rajendar with a woman, both smiling, a dog at their feet. “Is that her?” she asked, nodding to the frame, her tone gentle.

Rajendar followed her gaze, his smile fading. “Yeah. Latha. Taken years ago, before… everything.” He took a deeper sip, his eyes distant. “Haven’t touched that frame in a while.”
Nivi nodded, her heart aching for him. “She looks happy. You both do.” She reached out, her hand brushing his arm lightly, a comforting gesture. “You’re keeping her memory alive with the dogs. That’s special.”

He looked at her, his eyes softening. “Thanks, Nivetha. Not many get that.” His voice was quiet, the whiskey glass steady now, the vulnerability raw.

They talked more, the drinks flowing, the room growing warmer. Nivi poured another round, her movements slower, the whiskey loosening her guard. “You ever think about… trying again? Finding someone?” Her voice was curious, the kurta’s neckline dipping as she leaned forward.

Rajendar shook his head, his gaze on the glass. “Nah. Too old for that. And after Latha, no one fit. Besides, who’d want a stubborn guy like me?” He chuckled, but it was hollow, his eyes flicking to her, searching.

She smiled, her tone playful but kind. “You’re not that stubborn. And Titan likes you—good enough for me.” She winked, sipping, the olive leggings catching the light as she shifted.
He laughed again, lighter this time. “You’re trouble, Nivetha. Good trouble.” His eyes lingered on her, the whiskey softening his edges, and she felt the spark again, his gaze tracing her curves, more open now.

The conversation drifted to lighter things—office stories, Titan’s quirks, the park dogs’ antics. Nivi shared a tale about her boys painting the walls with her lipstick, making Rajendar chuckle, his stick forgotten for a moment. “Your kids sound like a handful,” he said, sipping. “But you manage.”

“Barely,” she laughed, her kurta brushing her thighs as she stood to clear the omelet plate. “They keep me going, though.” She moved to the kitchen, the plate clinking in the sink, and returned, noticing his gaze follow her, a new warmth in it.

As she sat, Titan stirred, padding over to nuzzle her legs, his fur warm against her leggings. “This guy really likes you,” Rajendar said, his voice soft, the whiskey glass nearly empty. “Never seen him take to someone so fast.”

Nivi grinned, petting Titan. “He’s a sweetheart. Maybe I’ll steal him.” Her tone was teasing, but her body felt alive, the whiskey and his gaze fueling her confidence.

Rajendar poured another round, his hand steadier now. “You’re welcome to try. But he’s loyal to me.” His eyes met hers, a playful challenge in them, and she felt the air shift, the moment heavier.

She raised her glass, her voice sultry but light. “To loyalty, then—dogs and good whiskey.” They clinked glasses again, the sound sharp, her kurta’s neckline teasing more as she leaned in. His eyes lingered, and she didn’t adjust it, letting the moment simmer.

The night deepened, the room quiet except for Titan’s snores and the faint hum of Coimbatore’s streets outside. Nivi’s phone buzzed, a notification from “NiviGlow”—another hundred likes on her morning post. She glanced at it, then set it aside, her focus on Rajendar. 

“You should come to the office soon,” she said, her voice soft. “The team misses you.”
He nodded, sipping. “Maybe. Thanks to you, I’m not falling behind.” His tone was grateful, his eyes holding hers, the whiskey’s warmth binding them.

She stood, smoothing her kurta, the olive leggings dusty from Titan’s nuzzles. “I should go—kids need me. But I’ll be back tomorrow with more files.” She grabbed her bag, the whiskey bottle still half-full on the table.

Rajendar rose, wincing as he leaned on his stick. “You don’t have to keep coming, but… I’m glad you do.” His voice was sincere, his gaze warm, and she felt a thrill, his trust a victory.
She knelt to hug Titan, his fur soft against her cheek. “Night, big guy,” she whispered, then turned to Rajendar. “Rest that ankle. And save some whiskey for me.” Her tone was playful, her smile bold.

He chuckled, walking her to the door. “Deal. Thanks, Nivetha.” The door creaked open, the night air cool, and she stepped out, the peach kurta fluttering, the olive leggings catching the streetlamp’s glow.

The auto ride home was quick, the city’s pulse a quiet hum, her mind replaying the night—his story about Latha, his loneliness, her own confession about Anand. He’s opening up, she thought, her body still warm from the whiskey, the craving eased but lingering. At home, the apartment was dark, the kids asleep, her mother-in-law on the couch with a chai.

“Late again,” the older woman teased, her saree loose, her eyes curious. “How’s the whiskey man?”

Nivi sank beside her, kicking off her sandals. “We talked—dogs, his past, my mess with Anand. He’s alone, but strong. I think he trusts me now.” Her voice was tired but proud, the kurta creased from the night.

Her mother-in-law nodded, patting her hand. “Good work, girl. Keep him close—he’s your key. Now, get some rest. Tomorrow’s pics are waiting.” Her tone was naughty, her smile wide.
Nivi laughed, heading to her room, the whiskey’s warmth fading, her confidence solid. She slipped into her nighty, the peach kurta folded away, and lay in bed, Anand’s snores distant. Her mind drifted to Rajendar’s gaze, the spark in his eyes, and the power she felt.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 104: Laughter and Whispers

The Sunday morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting soft patches of light across Nivi's apartment. The hum of Coimbatore's streets drifted in—vendors calling out for fresh idlis, the distant honk of an auto rickshaw. Nivi stirred in bed, the faint buzz of last night's whiskey with Rajendar lingering in her mind, his gaze on her curves flashing back. She stretched, her nighty clinging to her skin, and smiled at the quiet snores of her boys, still curled up in their room. The trolley of outfits sat in the corner, a silent reminder of her growing spark, but today felt softer, grounded in the rhythm of home.

She slipped out of bed, her bare feet cool on the floor, and changed into a soft coral salwar suit, the fabric loose but flattering, tracing her fuller breasts and rounded hips. The matching dupatta dbangd lightly over her shoulder, and the cream leggings hugged her legs with a gentle shimmer. She tied her hair in a loose bun, a few strands falling free, and stepped into the living room, where her mother-in-law was already up, stirring a pot of coffee, her saree a bright green swirl.

“Morning, starlet,” the older woman said, her voice teasing, a naughty glint in her eyes.

“Sleep off that whiskey glow?”

Nivi laughed, grabbing a cup from the counter.

“Barely. The kids let me sleep in, though—miracle.” She poured coffee, the aroma grounding her, and leaned against the kitchen counter, the coral salwar brushing her thighs.

The kids burst in, their toy car zooming across the floor, their giggles filling the room.

“Amma, play!” the five-year-old shouted, waving a plastic dinosaur. Nivi set her cup down, her dupatta slipping slightly, and knelt, chasing them around the sofa, the coral fabric fluttering.

“Got you!” she teased, tickling the three-year-old, his squeals loud and joyful.

Her mother-in-law watched, sipping her coffee.

“Look at you, all energy. Save some for cooking lunch—we're making biryani today.” Her tone was playful, her saree swishing as she moved to the stove.

Nivi stood, brushing her salwar, and grinned.

“Biryani sounds perfect. Let's get the kids settled first.” She herded the boys to the table, setting out their toys—a car, a dinosaur, a puzzle—and they dove in, their chatter a happy hum. She joined her mother-in-law in the kitchen, the air soon thick with the scent of spices, onions sizzling in a pan.

“Pass the turmeric,” Nivi said, chopping tomatoes, the coral salwar's sleeves rolled up. Her mother-in-law handed it over, their hands brushing, and smirked.

“So, tell me about last night,” the older woman said, stirring the pot, her voice low and mischievous.

“You and that whiskey man—Rajendar, right? Getting cozy at his place?”

Nivi's cheeks warmed, her knife pausing.

“Cozy's a stretch,” she said, laughing softly.

“I fed his park dogs, took him a bottle of whiskey since his was low. We talked—drank a bit. He opened up about his past, his dogs.” She diced the tomatoes, the coral dupatta slipping to show a hint of her neckline.

Her mother-in-law raised an eyebrow, tossing spices into the pan.

“Talked, huh? Bet he noticed more than your words. Those kurtas of yours don't hide much.” Her tone was naughty, her eyes flicking to Nivi's curves.

Nivi grinned, stirring the rice, the salwar brushing her hips.

“Maybe. He did look… different last night. Kept glancing at me after a few drinks, like he was seeing me for the first time.” She paused, the memory of his eyes on her midriff sparking a thrill.

“Noticed my neckline, my legs in those leggings.”

The older woman chuckled, her saree rustling as she leaned closer.

“Oh, you've got him hooked! New partner in the making, Nivi? Trading Anand for an older guy?” Her voice was teasing, a playful nudge in her words.

Nivi laughed, shaking her head, the coral salwar swaying.

“He's in his early sixties, Amma! I mean, at that age, I doubt… well, you know, things probably don't work like they used to.” Her voice dropped, careful with the kids nearby, her eyes darting to them playing with their dinosaur.

Her mother-in-law snorted, stirring the biryani, the steam curling up.

“Don't underestimate older men, girl. They're the horny ones—trust me. Age doesn't stop the fire.” She winked, her saree tucked tightly as she moved to grab the chicken.

Nivi's eyes widened, a giggle escaping.

“You're bad! But seriously, he's just… lonely. I went to gain his respect, not… that.” She sprinkled salt into the pot, her salwar's fabric catching the light.

The older woman smirked, chopping coriander.

“Sure, respect. But I saw you after that resort trip with your boss—Raghavan, what, early fifties? You were walking like you'd been through something wild. Not even your first night with Anand had you wobbling like that!” Her voice was low, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Nivi burst out laughing, covering her mouth to keep it quiet, the coral dupatta slipping further.

“Amma! Stop it!” She glanced at the kids, still lost in their toys, and leaned closer, her voice a whisper.

“Okay, fine, the resort was… intense. But Anand's first night? Nothing like that. I was barely sore then.”

They both laughed, the sound filling the kitchen, the biryani simmering. Her mother-in-law nudged her.

“See? Older men know things. That Rajendar—he might surprise you. Those glances? He's thinking more than respect.”

Nivi shook her head, stirring the pot, the coral salwar brushing her thighs.

“I don't know. I wanted his trust for work, to help with clients. But now… I mean, he's kind, strong in his own way. Part of me wonders if he could be… more.” Her voice was playful, testing the idea, her cheeks flushing.

Her mother-in-law grinned, setting plates out.

“Wonders, huh? Look at you, considering the old whiskey man as a lover! You're trouble, Nivi.” Her tone was light, her saree swishing as she moved.

Nivi laughed again, the idea absurd but thrilling.

“Oh, stop. It's just talk. He's too old, and I'm… well, I'm not there yet.” She winked, grabbing a spoon to taste the biryani, the spices warm on her tongue.

The kids ran in, their toys abandoned, sniffing the air.

“Amma, food!” the three-year-old shouted, tugging her salwar. Nivi smiled, ruffling his hair, and helped her mother-in-law set the table, the coral dupatta slipping to show her curves as she moved.

They sat, the biryani steaming, plates piled with rice, chicken, and a side of raita. The kids dug in, their chatter loud, sauce smearing their cheeks. Nivi ate slowly, the flavors rich, her mind drifting to Rajendar's gaze, his quiet vulnerability. Her mother-in-law caught her eye, a knowing smirk on her face.

“Thinking about him?” she whispered, leaning close.

Nivi rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Maybe. But it's just… nice to be seen.” Her voice was soft, the coral salwar creased from sitting, the cream leggings shimmering faintly.

The meal stretched, the kids telling stories about their dinosaur's adventures, Nivi and her mother-in-law laughing at their antics. The older woman shared a tale from her own childhood, sneaking mangoes from a neighbor's tree, making Nivi giggle.

“You were trouble too,” Nivi teased, wiping her plate.

After lunch, the kids yawned, their energy fading, and Nivi led them to their room, the coral salwar fluttering.

“Nap time,” she said, tucking them in, their eyes heavy. She kissed their foreheads, the room warm with their soft breaths, and returned to the living room, her mother-in-law already on the couch, fanning herself with a magazine.

“Join me,” the older woman said, patting the seat, her saree loose.

“You look like you need a rest after all that whiskey and dreaming.”

Nivi laughed, sinking beside her, the coral salwar soft against the cushions.

“Dreaming? Hardly. Just… thinking about work, Rajendar, the dogs.” Her voice was tired, the day's warmth settling in.

Her mother-in-law smirked, her eyes closing.

“Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.” She yawned, the magazine slipping, and they both drifted into a nap, the apartment quiet, the hum of Coimbatore outside a gentle lull.

The nap was short, the kids' giggles waking them, the afternoon light slanting across the room. Nivi stretched, her salwar creased, the cream leggings dusty from the morning's play. The day felt full—kids, cooking, gossip, the spark of Rajendar's gaze lingering. She stood, ready for the evening, her confidence a quiet glow.

[nivithenaughty]

Chapter 105: A Glimpse of Heat

The Sunday evening sun dipped low, casting a warm orange glow over Coimbatore’s bustling streets, the air thick with the sizzle of street-side bhajjis and the faint call of a fruit vendor. Nivi stepped out of the apartment, her coral salwar suit fluttering softly, the cream leggings shimmering with each step.

The nap with the kids and her mother-in-law had left her refreshed, but a restless spark lingered from their earlier gossip, her mother-in-law’s teasing about Rajendar’s potential still ringing in her ears. She grabbed a small bag, tossing in a pack of biscuits for the park dogs, her mind set on continuing her gesture for Rajendar.

The trolley of outfits sat quietly in the corner, a reminder of her bold new self, but the coral salwar felt right—light, flattering, hugging her curves just enough.

“Heading to the park,” she called to her mother-in-law, who was washing dishes, her saree tucked tightly. The older woman smirked, waving a soapy hand.

“Don’t get too cozy with that whiskey man,” she teased, her eyes twinkling.

“Or do—your call, starlet.”

Nivi laughed, shaking her head, the coral dupatta slipping slightly to show her neckline.

“Just feeding the dogs, Amma. Back soon.” She stepped out, the apartment door clicking shut, the kids’ giggles fading behind her. The auto ride to the park was quick, the streets alive with families winding down, scooters weaving through traffic. Her mind drifted to Rajendar—his gruff voice, his gaze lingering on her curves last night, the whiskey loosening his guard. Maybe he’ll call, she thought, her fingers brushing the salwar’s hem, a faint thrill stirring.

The park was quieter now, the evening light softening the green expanse, the swings empty except for a lone child. The dogs—Rusty, Shadow, and the others—bounded over as Nivi approached their usual tree, their tails wagging, eyes bright with recognition. She knelt, the coral salwar brushing the grass, and opened the biscuit packet, the crinkle loud in the stillness.

“Here, sweeties,” she said, her voice soft, breaking the biscuits into pieces. Rusty nudged her hand, his fur warm, while Shadow hung back, then crept closer for his share. The act was calming, the dogs’ gratitude grounding her, but a small ache tugged at her—she’d hoped Rajendar might show, despite his ankle.

Her phone buzzed in her bag, the screen glowing with Rajendar’s name. Her heart skipped, and she wiped her hands on her salwar, answering quickly.

“Hello, Mr. Rajendar?” Her voice was warm, the cream leggings catching the fading light as she stood.

“Nivetha,” his voice came through, gruff but softer than usual.

“Just checking on the dogs. Couldn’t make it to the park—ankle’s still bad. You there?” His tone carried a hint of worry, the background quiet except for a faint clink, maybe a glass.

She smiled, petting Rusty’s head.

“Already taken care of. They’re eating now—Rusty’s hogging the biscuits, as usual.” Her voice was playful, the coral dupatta slipping to show a sliver of her collarbone.

He chuckled, a low, relieved sound.

“You’re a lifesaver. Thanks, Nivetha. Means a lot.” The call ended abruptly, the silence sharp, and Nivi’s smile faded. No invitation? she thought, her chest tightening with disappointment. She’d hoped he’d ask her to stop by, maybe share another drink, his eyes lingering again. The dogs nuzzled her, but the ache grew—she wanted to surprise him, keep their bond growing.

She stood, brushing the grass from her salwar, the cream leggings slightly dusty. I’ll bring him dinner, she decided, the idea sparking. Show I care. She tossed the empty biscuit packet into a bin and walked to a nearby stall, the air thick with the scent of dosas and chutney. She bought a pack of idlis and sambar, the warm parcel tucked into her bag, and hailed an auto to 12B, Old Gandhi Road. The ride was quick, the streets dimming as night crept in, her mind replaying his gaze from last night, the whiskey’s warmth, her mother-in-law’s words about older men’s fire.

The house came into view, its peeling paint familiar under the streetlamp’s glow. Nivi stepped out, the coral salwar swaying, and approached the gate, her heart pounding with the thrill of the surprise. Titan bounded over, his muscular frame nuzzling her legs, his tail wagging wildly.

“Hey, big guy,” she whispered, petting his coarse fur, the cream leggings brushing against him. She reached for the bell, but paused, her eyes catching something odd—a pair of women’s sandals tucked to the side of the door, half-hidden behind a potted plant. The footwear was worn, red with faded embroidery, not hers, not expected.

Her brow furrowed, curiosity flaring. Who’s here? she thought, her fingers tightening on the bag. Rajendar lived alone, his solitude clear from their talks. She glanced around, the yard quiet except for Titan’s soft panting. The sandals looked deliberately placed, like someone didn’t want them noticed. Her pulse quickened, the coral dupatta slipping further as she moved closer to the house, her eyes scanning for clues.

A half-open window caught her attention, the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze. She stepped lightly, the cream leggings shimmering, and peered through the gap, her breath catching. Inside, the living room was dim, the sofa holding a folded saree—blue with gold borders, neatly dbangd but out of place. No one was there, the whiskey bottle from last night still on the table, two glasses beside it. A woman? she thought, her curiosity spiking, her body tingling with a mix of intrigue and unease.

She moved quietly along the house, the coral salwar brushing her thighs, and followed the wall to another window, this one smaller, leading to the bedroom. The gap was narrow, the curtain slightly ajar, and she leaned closer, her heart racing. Through the slit, she saw him—Rajendar, lying on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, his face flushed. A woman, middle-aged, maybe in her late forties, straddled him, her saree hiked up, her hips moving wildly. Her dark hair fell loose, her blouse half-open, her curves bouncing with each thrust. Rajendar’s hands gripped her waist, his eyes half-closed, a low groan escaping him.



Nivi’s breath hitched, her eyes widening, the scene raw and intense. The woman’s movements were fierce, her body rocking, her moans soft but urgent. Nivi couldn’t look away, her body heating, a familiar tingle stirring between her thighs. He’s alive down there, she thought, her mother-in-law’s words echoing—Older men are the horny ones. She bit her lip, the coral salwar clinging to her skin, the cream leggings tight as she shifted, her pussy throbbing faintly at the sight. Rajendar, in his early sixties, was far from the spent man she’d imagined—he was hungry, his grip on the woman strong, his body responding with vigor.

She watched a moment longer, the woman’s hips grinding, Rajendar’s hands roaming, the bed creaking under their rhythm. The whiskey glasses on the table made sense now—shared drinks, like with her, but leading here. Nivi’s mind spun, a mix of shock, amusement, and arousal. He’s got fire, she thought, her mother-in-law’s teasing ringing true. She felt no jealousy, only a strange thrill, the voyeuristic moment fueling her own restless craving from earlier.

She stepped back, her sandals soft on the grass, the coral dupatta catching on a bush. What now? she thought, the food parcel warm in her hand. She couldn’t knock—not with that going on. A smile tugged her lips, an idea forming. She pulled a pen and a scrap of paper from her bag, scribbling quickly: Dinner for you—hope this fuels you both for round two. -Nivi. The words were playful, indirect, a nod to their energy-draining romp. She folded the note, tucked it into the parcel’s string, and hung the bag on the doorknob, the idlis and sambar swaying slightly.

Titan nuzzled her leg, his fur warm, and she knelt to pet him, whispering, “Keep their secret, big guy.” She stood, the coral salwar creased, the cream leggings dusty from the yard, and slipped out the gate, her heart light but buzzing. The auto ride home was quiet, the city’s pulse a soft hum, her mind replaying the scene—Rajendar’s strength, the woman’s wild rhythm, her own daring note.

She stepped into the apartment, the door creaking softly, the kids asleep, the living room dark except for a lamp’s glow. Her mother-in-law sat on the couch, a chai cup in hand, her saree loose.

“Back already?” she asked, her eyes narrowing with curiosity.

“What’s that look, starlet? Trouble at the whiskey man’s?”

Nivi sank beside her, kicking off her sandals, the coral salwar brushing her thighs.

“Fed the dogs, took him dinner as a surprise. But… he had company.” Her voice was low, a naughty glint in her eyes.

The older woman’s eyebrows shot up, her cup pausing.

“Company? Spill it, girl.”

Nivi grinned, leaning closer.

“A woman, Amma. Saw them through a window—middle-aged, riding him like a storm. You were right—older men are the horny ones.” Her voice was a whisper, her cheeks flushing with the memory.

Her mother-in-law burst out laughing, covering her mouth to muffle it.

“Told you! That old dog’s got fire! What did you do?”

Nivi smirked, sipping the chai her mother-in-law handed her.

“Left the food with a note—said it’d give them energy for more. Didn’t knock.” She winked, the cream leggings shimmering as she crossed her legs.

The older woman cackled, her saree shaking.

“You’re naughty, Nivi! He’ll read that and blush harder than you. Good move, though—keeps you in his head.” She patted Nivi’s knee, her eyes twinkling.

Nivi nodded, the thrill settling into a quiet glow.

“Yeah. Felt… powerful, leaving it like that.” She yawned, the day’s events catching up, the coral salwar creased from the evening.

“Go rest,” her mother-in-law said, standing.

“Big week ahead—more whiskey, more dogs, maybe more surprises.” Her tone was playful, her saree swishing as she headed to the kitchen.

Nivi smiled, heading to her room, the coral salwar folded away, her nighty soft against her skin. She lay in bed, Anand’s snores distant, her mind on Rajendar’s hidden fire, the woman’s wild ride, her own daring note. The city’s hum lulled her, the chapter closing as her confidence burned brighter, ready for what came next.