My Sweet Wife Radha

[ashipremkumar]

The plane landed with a thud on Melbourne’s tarmac, and my manhood was a ferocious beast, throbbing with raw intensity, so swollen it strained against my jeans, leaking with desire as I stumbled off, consumed with an urgent need to reach Radha—my beautiful, seductive, irresistibly naughty Indian wife, my craving, untamed temptress, the very beat of my heart. Four weeks away had been a cruel torment, a torture of pleasuring myself to her fading image, but the testing job collapsed early, and my boss growled, “Forget it, go home.” Our fifth anniversary was days away, and I’d tear the world apart to make her gasp with her own wicked cries, to hold her close and feel her soul entwined with mine. I’d stormed a shady lingerie shop, my hands trembling with feverish excitement as I selected the most scandalous treasure: a black lace ruffle bralette so sheer it would barely contain her 34C breasts, the ruffles teasing her dark nipples into stiff peaks, paired with matching loose lace shorts that hung low on her 36-inch hips, the crotch already damp with anticipation, leaving her thick thighs and leaking core barely concealed.
As I raced home, my manhood was a chaotic mess, dripping with need as I pictured Radha—my light brown, desire-driven beauty, my eternal love—strutting in that flimsy black lace set. Her full breasts would spill over the ruffled bralette, nipples piercing the delicate fabric, begging me to rip it off. The loose lace shorts would slide up with every teasing step, exposing her round backside and the glistening trail of Mike’s cum leaking from her well-fucked core, her light brown curves swaying like a dancer with every provocative move, each motion a silent vow of her devotion to me.
She’s my secret obsession—sweet and charming one moment, a bold, desire-hungry vixen the next, but always the woman who owns my soul. She loves to torment me, flashing her light brown skin when I’m unprepared, bending over to lift her skirt, swaying her backside as if daring me to spank it red and tender, her laughter a melody that binds me to her forever. Her playful laughter echoes in my ears, her almond eyes sparkling with mischief and love, her full lips smirking when she catches me staring, knowing my manhood is on the verge of bursting, knowing she’s my everything.
Our roleplays had set our nights ablaze—those sinful evenings where I’d dress her as my seductive fantasy, urging her to play the teasing enchantress, our hearts beating as one. I’d push her to torment me, to act as if she were seducing her boss Mike, flaunting her breasts or backside while I watched, my manhood throbbing with need, my love for her growing deeper with every wicked word. “Yes, Radha, show that man your core,” I’d urge, begging her to describe bending over his desk, skirt lifted, murmuring, “Sir, do you like this?” Her almond eyes would glow with love for me, her voice turning sultry as she played along, moaning, “Yes, darling, I’d open my legs for him, taste him while you watch, but it’s your love that sets my soul on fire.” And my filthy ideas—making her skip her bra at the office, her full breasts jiggling under her blouse, nipples poking through as she teased Mike with every sway—had pushed her further, turning our fantasies into reality.
She’d always believed Mike was more endowed—his manhood a commanding presence she couldn’t ignore. She’d come home from work, her eyes alight with excitement, describing how she’d noticed his swollen trousers, a large bulge evident in his tight clothes, when he called her to his office, flirting with her in a low, suggestive tone. “Radha, review this file,” he’d say, leaning close, his manhood outlined like a bold challenge, and she’d blush, her core growing wet, thrilled by the attention, her naughty heart racing, but always returning to me with a kiss that said, “You’re my home.” She’d tell me, laughing softly, “Darling, his manhood looks so large—bigger than yours, it might overwhelm me.” I’d grow aroused hearing it, urging her to weave it into our roleplays, saying, “Yes, Radha, taste his large manhood, be his temptress,” my heart swelling with love for her fearless spirit.
But as I screeched to our gate, my passionate haze shattered—there it was, a grand, luxurious Beamer parked boldly in the driveway, gleaming under the lights as if taunting me, whispering, “Your wife is wicked.” My manhood surged, but instead of anger, a wild, aroused fever gripped me, my love for Radha’s daring heart burning brighter. I knew Mike was inside, his large manhood likely claiming her body, but I knew her soul was mine. My pulse pounded like a drum as I shoved the key into the door, my manhood throbbing with a twisted blend of desire and anticipation. I stepped inside, and the sight struck me like a wave—her saree, the silky red one she wore to work, crumpled in a messy pile on the floor, as if torn off in a frenzy. Near the television, her petticoat hung, ripped and tattered, dangling like a flag of her reckless passion. The air was thick with the scent of intimacy, her perfume entwined with a raw, musky odor, and my manhood pulsed harder, my heart aching with love for her untamed spirit.
As I climbed the stairs, my heart racing, I spotted her panties—black, lacy, the ones I’d seen her wear—lying on the floor, torn to shreds, the crotch ripped open, still damp with her core’s essence, as if a beast had savagely pulled them from her aroused body. I picked them up, the wet fabric clinging to my fingers, sending a jolt of perverse arousal through me, my manhood leaking into my jeans, my love for her growing fiercer. Driven by a twisted need, I crept toward our bedroom, the sounds growing louder—Radha’s moans, low and throaty, mingling with Mike’s deep groans, a symphony of ecstasy and pleasure that pierced the silence, yet my heart whispered, “She’s mine.”
Peering through the slightly open bedroom door, I saw them, and the sight seared itself into my mind. Radha, my seductive wife, was completely bare, her light brown skin glistening with sweat, straddling Mike as he carried her from the center of the room. His strong hands gripped her round buttocks, squeezing them firmly, spreading them as he walked, his large manhood buried deep inside her, her core stretched around him as she clung to his shoulders, her breasts bouncing with each step, her head thrown back in pleasure. He lifted her with ease, her moans turning to screams of ecstasy as he placed her on the bed, his manhood still buried deep inside my sweet wife. He sat on the edge, and Radha, still straddling him, began to ride him gently, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm, her moans rising as his manhood filled her deeply. Then, he took control, laying her back on the bed, his hands still gripping her buttocks, and began pounding her with savage, unrelenting thrusts, the bedframe groaning and splintering under their frenzy, threatening to collapse.

[ashipremkumar]

“God, Radha, you’re so tight,” Mike growled, his voice rough with lust, “your core grips me like nothing else.” Radha’s body was a storm of ecstasy—her light brown skin flushed crimson, her breasts heaving wildly, her nipples hard as diamonds. Her screams tore through the house, raw and animalistic, “Mike! It’s too much—please stop!” as her first orgasm exploded, her core convulsing around his large manhood, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. But he didn’t stop—he pounded harder, deeper, and she came again, her body arching off the bed, “Stop, Mike, I can’t—oh god!” her voice breaking as a second climax ripped through her, her nails raking his back, her core gushing in a torrent of release.
Yet even as she begged him to stop, her hips rose to meet his thrusts, her almond eyes wild with need. “Don’t stop now,” she gasped, her voice shifting to desperate pleading, “fill me, Mike—flood my womb with your seed, give me everything!” Mike’s groans turned into primal roars, his hips slamming into her with ferocious power, the wet sounds of their union echoing like thunder. His climax erupted like a volcano—his manhood swelled impossibly larger, pulsating with violent force as he unleashed thick, endless ropes of seed into my darling wife’s sweet womb, flooding her so completely that it overflowed, dripping down her thighs in creamy streams. “Take it all, Radha,” he roared, staying buried deep, pumping with slow, deliberate thrusts, his groans guttural as he forced every last drop into her, claiming her body but never her heart.
Afterward, they collapsed together, Radha’s body wracked with aftershocks, her breath a series of broken gasps, her light brown skin slick with sweat and glistening with their combined essence. Mike pulled her into his arms, cuddling her close on the stained sheets, their bodies entwined. “That was incredible, Radha,” he murmured, kissing her forehead, “your tightness, your screams—it felt so good.” Radha nestled against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin, a Satisfied smile on her lips. “It felt amazing, Mike,” she said, her voice husky, “doing this on my anniversary… it made me so horny, so naughty. I couldn’t help myself.” They lay there for a while, murmuring softly about the intensity, her light brown curves pressed against him, the air thick with their shared passion.
I watched, my manhood throbbing painfully, my hand frantically stroking it through my jeans as her final scream shattered the air. My own climax exploded with blinding force, my cum shooting in powerful spurts, soaking my jeans, my body shuddering violently as I gasped, nearly collapsing against the wall, the intensity of awakening to my wife’s betrayal consuming me in perverse, overwhelming pleasure, my love for her burning brighter than ever.
Mike slowly withdrew, his manhood still glistening and semi-hard, coated in their essence, and he dressed quickly, pulling on his clothes with a triumphant smirk. Radha remained on the bed for a moment, her legs splayed, her core a glistening mess, leaking thick streams of Mike’s seed, before following him downstairs naked to say goodbye, her breasts swaying, her hips moving with a languid, sated grace, her core still dripping as she walked. She kissed him deeply at the threshold, then walked back up the stairs, her fingers sliding between her thighs, scooping the thick mixture and tasting it slowly, her almond eyes half-closed in lingering ecstasy, her heart racing with dread at the thought of me catching her.
I stepped from the shadows into the bedroom doorway, the bag with the black lace ruffle bralette and matching loose shorts in one hand, my jeans soaked with my own release, my breath heavy. Radha froze mid-step on the stairs, her fingers still glistening at her lips, her eyes widening in pure terror as she saw me, her face draining of color, her heart pounding so hard she could barely breathe, convinced I’d be furious, that I’d reject her for her naughtiness. “Darling!” she gasped, her voice trembling with panic, her naked body shaking, Mike’s seed still dripping down her thighs. But instead of anger, a wave of love and perverse arousal washed over me. I dropped the bag, the black lace set spilling out, and rushed to her, pulling her into a warm, enveloping hug that instantly melted her fear. She collapsed into my arms, her trembling body relaxing against mine, the terror in her eyes giving way to relief and adoration as my embrace made her feel safe, cherished, and utterly loved. “Your hug… it makes everything okay,” she said, her voice thick with emotion, “I love you even more for this.”
“I love your naughty side, Radha,” I said against her lips, my voice thick with adoration and lust, “seeing you with Mike, so wild, so free—it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed. I want you to keep being this kinky slut wife—enjoy every moment of it, my love, because it makes our bond unbreakable.” Her almond eyes sparkled with love and mischief, her fear completely gone, replaced by a deeper devotion to me. I lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed—still warm and damp from their passion, the sheets stained with Mike’s seed—and sat her down gently, kissing her softly, my hands caressing her breasts, her nipples hardening under my touch, our souls intertwining. I took her hands, guiding them to my jeans, pressing them against my soaked crotch, the fabric sticky with my cum. “Feel this, my love,” I murmured, “I leaked watching Mike cum in you, filling your womb. It drove me wild.”
Radha’s eyes widened, then softened with understanding, her fingers tracing the wet patch, a sultry smile spreading across her lips. “Oh, darling,” she purred, her voice regaining its playful edge, “you love your naughty wife, don’t you? I was so scared you’d catch me and hate me, but your hug made me feel so safe, so loved—I love you more than ever for it.” She took a deep breath, her voice turning serious yet dripping with lust. “There’s something I need to confess, darling. This… this affair with Mike, it’s been going on for the last two months. It started because of our roleplays—your filthy words, urging me to seduce him, to open my legs for him. And that dirty idea of yours, making me go to the office without a bra, my breasts jiggling under my blouse, nipples hard and poking through as I leaned over his desk… it pushed me over the edge. Mike couldn’t resist, and neither could I. Every time I teased him with my swaying tits, he’d pull me into his office, fuck me raw, and I’d come home dripping, thinking of you.” Her eyes locked on mine, gleaming with love and depravity. “I want to keep doing this—with your blessing, letting other cocks wreck my pussy while you watch, because your love is my everything.”
She reached for the black lace ruffle bralette and matching loose shorts, slipping into them slowly, teasingly—the ruffled bralette barely containing her full breasts, her dark nipples piercing the sheer lace, the loose shorts hanging low on her hips, the crotch already soaked with Mike’s leaking seed, a glistening trail running down her thick thighs. “Dress your wicked wife, darling,” she teased, her voice thick with love, “and chase me through this house, rip this flimsy lace off me as I run, my pussy leaking his cum, and take me in every room until the night ends, because I’m yours forever.”

[ashipremkumar]

Our anniversary celebration erupted into a wild, loving chase, every moment laced with soul-deep intimacy. Radha bolted from the bed, giggling wickedly, the loose lace shorts sliding up to expose her round backside, Mike’s thick cum dripping down her thighs in creamy streaks as she darted toward the hallway. “Catch me if you can, darling!” she taunted, her almond eyes flashing with mischief, the ruffled bralette bouncing with her full breasts. I lunged after her, my manhood throbbing, and caught her in the hallway, ripping the loose lace shorts clean off in one savage tug, the fabric tearing with a satisfying rip as Mike’s cum splattered the floor. “Ram your filthy cock in my sloppy, cum-drenched cunt, darling!” Radha screamed, her nails digging into my shoulders as I pinned her against the wall, thrusting into her with fierce devotion, her core slick with Mike’s seed, the wet sounds obscene as I drove deep. “Mike fucked this whore-hole like a goddamn jackhammer—I begged ‘Stop, you fucking bastard, I’m cumming my brains out!’ when his fat, veiny dick made me squirt like a broken hose twice, then I howled ‘Pump your hot, sticky jizz in my fertile womb, breed your nasty slut!’” Her voice was filthy, dripping with depravity as she felt Mike’s thick cum churning inside her stretched pussy. “His creamy, scalding load’s sloshing and frothing in my wrecked, gaping fuck-tunnel—stir it up with your cock, make me your cum-dump wife! I love you so much for letting me be this filthy, cock-hungry slut—your hug after I thought I’d lost you makes me love you more, darling, please let me get fucked like this again!” I kissed her deeply, saying, “I love you, Radha, my kinky goddess—keep being this slut wife, it’s our love that makes it perfect.” My release flooded her, mixing with Mike’s in her womb.
She squirmed free, laughing, the torn shorts dangling from one ankle as she ran to the living room, Mike’s cum still leaking down her thighs. I chased her, ripping the ruffled bralette off her breasts in one brutal yank, the lace shredding as her dark nipples sprang free. I took her on all fours on the couch, the same spot where Mike had wrecked her. “He growled my cunt was tighter than a virgin’s,” she snarled, slamming back onto me, “that monster cock split my pussy until I screamed ‘No more, Mike, you’re ripping my fucking hole apart!’ but I came like a bitch in heat—then begged ‘Drown my guts in your thick, nasty spunk, fill this cheating whore’s sloppy snatch!’” Her words were vulgar fire, her core gushing with Mike’s cum. “His hot, gooey jizz is bubbling and farting out of my sloppy, ruined snatch—fuck it deeper, darling, turn me into your filthy cum-slut! I love you for loving my kinky side—your hug melted my fear, made me feel so safe, I love you more than ever, let me take more cocks with your blessing!” I stroked her face tenderly, murmuring, “You’re my everything, Radha—fuck whoever you want, I’ll love you through it all.”
She darted to the kitchen, the remnants of the bralette hanging in tatters, her breasts bouncing freely, cum trailing down her legs. I caught her against the counter, her legs wrapped around my waist as I thrust upward, the torn lace shorts now completely gone. “Pound this cum-soaked, dripping cunt like he did!” she wailed, “I was his anniversary fuck-toy—begging ‘Stop destroying my pussy, you animal!’ then ‘Blast your seed in my womb, make it leak like a broken faucet!’ Your hug saved me, darling—I love you more for it, let me do this again!” Mike’s cum splattered the floor as her orgasms exploded, our lips meeting in a soul-searing kiss.
Back in the bedroom, the shredded lace scattered like confetti, I carried her to the bed, thrusting with primal love. “Feel his scalding, sticky cum in my ruined, gaping fuck-hole!” she roared, her voice raw and obscene, her hands cupping my face, “He hammered my cunt until I begged to stop, then begged ‘Flood this stretched, sloppy pussy with your nasty, thick load!’—now your cock’s churning his creamy, frothy mess into a goddamn milkshake! I love you so fucking much for letting me be this depraved, cock-addicted whore—your hug after I was terrified of being caught made me feel so cherished, I love you more than anything!” Her orgasms peaked endlessly, her body convulsing, the bed soaked with our mingled filth. “I love your kinky heart, Radha,” I groaned, spanking her harder, our eyes locked in devotion, “keep being my slut wife—fuck whoever you want, I’ll always support you, because you’re my soul.” I released again and again, my cum flooding her womb, blending with Mike’s in a torrent of devotion, pumping into her until we were both spent, the night stretching into hours of unrelenting passion, every thrust a vow of eternal love.
We collapsed together on the bed, the torn black lace ruffle bralette and shorts scattered around us, her breath ragged, her light brown skin slick with sweat, her core leaking a thick blend of our essences, pooling on the sheets. I pulled her into my arms, our bodies entwined in a tender cuddle, her head resting on my chest, my fingers tracing lazy circles on her back as we basked in the afterglow. The scent of our mingled passion filled the air, her heartbeat syncing with mine, our love a quiet, burning flame. “Radha, my filthy goddess,” I murmured, kissing her forehead, “invite Mike for dinner this weekend. I’ll take a couple of shots, act drunk, and ‘pass out’ on the couch. You tease him—make those tits jiggle, let him think I’m asleep. I want to watch him rub your panties, slip his fingers inside your wet married pussy, spank that round ass while you moan and scream to tease me more.” Radha’s eyes lit up with wicked delight, her body shivering with excitement against mine. “Oh, darling, you dirty bastard,” she purred, her voice thick with lust, “I’ll make him finger-fuck my sloppy cunt right in front of you, scream like a whore while he spanks my ass red. Your cock will leak watching your slut wife get teased senseless.”
The very next morning, still tangled in the sheets, Radha grabbed her phone with a mischievous grin, her almond eyes gleaming as she dialed Mike’s number on speaker, her naked body pressed against mine, Mike’s dried cum still crusted on her thighs. “Mike, baby,” she purred into the phone, her voice dripping with filthy recollection, “remember how you wrecked my pussy just hours ago? That massive cock of yours stretching my tight married cunt until I screamed ‘Stop, you’re ripping me apart!’—then I begged you to flood my womb with your hot, thick jizz like the nasty slut I am.” Mike groaned on the other end, his voice rough with arousal, “Fuck, Radha, your core gripped me so tight—I pounded you until you squirted twice, then pumped every drop into your fertile womb, watching it leak out.” Radha laughed wickedly, her fingers tracing my chest as she continued, “And right after you left, I made love to my darling husband—his cock sliding into my sloppy, cum-filled pussy without him suspecting a thing, his seed mixing with yours while I moaned his name. He loved every second, thinking it was just us.”
I kissed her neck, whispering my request into her ear, and she relayed it with a sultry smile: “Darling just asked me to invite you for dinner this Saturday—says he wants to celebrate with his favorite scotch. Bring a bottle of that Glenfiddich 18, the one I know you keep in your office. We’ll get him nice and drunk, let him ‘pass out’ on the couch… and then we can get lucky again, right under his nose. I’ll wear something slutty, tease you until you can’t hold back, and fuck me senseless while he ‘sleeps’ nearby.” Mike chuckled darkly, “You filthy whore—I’ll bring the scotch, pound that cheating pussy raw again, fill you up so full it drips onto the couch. Tell your husband I’m looking forward to it.” Radha moaned softly, “Mmm, yes—make me scream, Mike. My hubby will love the show without knowing.” She hung up, curling into me with a wicked grin, “He’s in, darling. This weekend will be pure chaos.”

[ashipremkumar]

The weekend arrived like a fever dream, the air thick with anticipation. Radha had recounted the phone call to me in bed, her fingers stroking my manhood as she described every vulgar detail, her plans to get me drunk with the scotch so she and Mike could fuck wildly. We’d spent the week teasing each other—Radha recounting her two-month affair in filthy detail, how Mike had fucked her in his office, the car, even a hotel, all sparked by our roleplays and my braless office command, and how she’d come home to make love to me, her core still leaking his cum, without me suspecting until now. “Your dirty mind made me this slut, darling,” she’d purr, kissing me deeply, “and now you’ll watch him ruin me again, knowing everything.”
Saturday evening, the house glowed with candlelight, the scent of spiced curry and jasmine filling the air, the bottle of Glenfiddich 18 prominently on the table—Mike’s gift. Radha was a vision of depravity—a sheer black saree dbangd low, barely containing her 34C breasts, no bra, her dark nipples piercing the fabric, jiggling with every step. The matching blouse was unbuttoned to her navel, her light brown cleavage a magnet for Mike’s eyes. Her petticoat clung to her thick thighs, and her black lace panties were already soaked, her core dripping with anticipation. I’d dressed casually, ready to play my part.
The doorbell rang at seven sharp. Radha opened it with a sultry smile, and Mike stepped in, his Beamer keys dangling, his tight shirt outlining that massive bulge. Without a word, he pulled Radha into a tight hug right in the doorway, his arms wrapping around her waist, one hand sliding down to boldly grope her round buttocks, squeezing the soft flesh hard enough to make her gasp. “Missed this fat ass already,” he growled low, his fingers digging in as he pressed his hardness against her belly. Radha moaned softly, grinding back, her almond eyes flicking to me with a teasing wink. I stood nearby, pretending not to notice, my cock already stirring at the brazen display.
Mike released her with a smirk and shook my hand firmly. “Great to see you, mate. Radha’s been invaluable at the office—always going the extra mile, taking on the heaviest loads with such… enthusiasm.” His words dripped with double meaning, his eyes locked on Radha as she bit her lip, stifling a giggle. “She handles my biggest projects without complaint, stays late to make sure everything’s… fully satisfied.” Radha’s cheeks flushed, her nipples hardening visibly under the saree as she exchanged a knowing smile with Mike. I played along, chuckling, “She’s always been dedicated—glad she’s making you happy at work.” Mike’s grin widened, “Oh, she makes me very happy—her tight deadlines and wet enthusiasm keep me coming back for more.” Radha’s eyes sparkled with mischief, her core clenching at the loaded praise.
Dinner was a slow burn of tension. I poured the Glenfiddich generously, taking shots to flush my face and slur my words, acting the drunk husband—laughing too loud, stumbling, my eyes secretly sharp. Radha played the perfect hostess, leaning over Mike to serve, her breasts nearly spilling out, nipples grazing his arm. “Oops, sorry, sir,” she’d purr, her voice dripping with fake innocence, her eyes locked on mine with a wicked gleam. Mike’s trousers tightened, his bulge obscene, and Radha’s core glistened under the saree, her thighs rubbing together. Mid-meal, I “passed out” on the couch, sprawled with a glass in hand, my manhood throbbing as I pretended to snore, watching through slitted eyes.
Radha announced loudly, “He’s out cold—finally.” She turned to Mike with a wicked grin. “Got that surprise for me, Daddy?” Mike smirked, pulling a gift-wrapped package from his bag. “Thought my sweet muffin would look perfect in my daughter’s old college uniform—outgrew it years ago, but it’ll hug your curves like it was made for Daddy’s naughty girl.” Radha’s eyes lit up as she tore open the package right there in the living room: a crisp white college blouse, two sizes too small, a tiny navy pleated skirt, and—nestled at the bottom—a pair of soft, white cotton panties with a tiny pink bow, clearly his daughter’s. Radha gasped, then giggled filthily, holding the cotton panties up. “Oh, Daddy,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock-innocence, “your little girl’s panties? I’ll be your sweet muffin, call you Daddy, and let you punish me like I’ve always been yours—right next to my drunk husband.”
She began her strip-tease inches from my “sleeping” form, swaying her hips to an imaginary beat, teasing Mike mercilessly. “Come on, Daddy,” she cooed, letting the saree pallu slip to reveal her heaving cleavage, “pull this off your naughty daughter.” Mike growled, stepping forward and yanking the pallu free, the silk ripping slightly as it fell. Radha giggled, turning to present her back, “Now the blouse, Daddy—rip it open, I’ve been bad.” Mike’s hands trembled with lust as he gripped the fabric, tearing the blouse apart with a savage rip, buttons flying as her full breasts spilled free, dark nipples erect. “That’s it, Daddy,” she moaned, bending forward to push her ass toward him, “now the petticoat—tear it off your sweet muffin.” Mike obliged, ripping the petticoat down her thighs, the fabric shredding as it pooled at her feet. Finally, she stepped out of her soaked black lace panties, dangling them in front of Mike. “Last one, Daddy—rip these off your little girl’s dripping pussy.” Mike snatched them, tearing the lace in half with a primal grunt, the wet crotch slapping against his palm.
Naked, her light brown curves glistening, Radha stepped into the uniform slowly, teasingly. The white blouse strained obscenely over her 34C breasts, buttons barely closing, gaps flashing skin and stiff nipples. The pleated skirt rode high on her thick thighs, hem fluttering inches below her dripping core. She slid the cotton panties up last, the soft fabric clinging to her soaked folds, the pink bow sitting just above her clit. “How do I look, Daddy?” she purred, twirling so the skirt flared, exposing her ass cheeks and the cotton stretched tight over her leaking pussy. Mike’s eyes darkened, his hands roaming her body, feeling the tight blouse and skirt. “Like Daddy’s perfect little girl,” he growled, “these curves in my daughter’s uniform—fuck, I’ve dreamed of touching you like this.”
He pulled her across his lap on the couch, her body dbangd over his thighs, her ass up. “Time to punish my sweet muffin for being such a filthy little slut,” he murmured, his voice thick with taboo hunger. He gently lifted the pleated skirt, folding it up to fully expose her round, light brown buttocks, the cotton panties pulled tight between her cheeks, the pink bow peeking out. His large hands caressed the soft flesh first, fingers tracing every curve, squeezing hard enough to leave red marks. “Look at this fat, naughty ass, my little girl,” he growled, “Daddy’s been dreaming of spanking his sweet muffin red.” He delivered the first sharp, stinging spank, the slap echoing like a gunshot, her cheek jiggling violently. Radha screamed, “Spank your naughty daughter’s fat fucking ass, Daddy—I’ve been a bad little slut, punish your sweet muffin’s juicy cheeks!”
Mike’s hand lingered after each spank, rubbing the burning skin, his fingers dipping between her thighs to graze the soaked cotton. “You love Daddy’s punishment, don’t you, my filthy daughter?” he snarled, spanking harder, alternating cheeks, each slap leaving a vivid red handprint. Radha’s screams grew louder, more desperate, “Harder, Daddy—beat your little girl’s ass until it’s raw! I’m your cock-hungry sweet muffin, spank me until I squirt in your daughter’s panties!” Her body jolted with every strike, her core gushing, the cotton darkening as her juices soaked through. Mike paused to pull the cotton panties tighter, wedging them deeper between her cheeks, exposing more flesh. “Daddy’s little whore needs her ass wrecked,” he roared, spanking relentlessly, his palm cracking against her skin, her cheeks bouncing and reddening to a deep crimson. “Scream for Daddy, tell me how much you love your punishment!” Radha wailed, “I love Daddy’s brutal spanks—my ass is burning for you, make your sweet muffin cry and cum!” Her orgasms exploded from the pain and pleasure, her body convulsing, squirting onto his lap, the cotton panties drenched and clinging.
Mike lifted her, seating her in his lap, her legs straddling him, the cotton panties soaked and stretched. His hands slid under the straining blouse, groping and fondling her full breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. “Always wanted to do this to my little girl,” he confessed, his voice raw with depraved lust, “feel these big, married tits in my daughter’s uniform, pinch these hard nipples like I’ve fantasized for years.” He pinched her dark nipples hard, twisting them viciously until she screamed, “Pinch your daughter’s fat nipples, Daddy—make your sweet muffin cum just from this, twist them until I beg!” Her hips ground against his bulge, the cotton panties rubbing her clit, her screams public and deliberate.
Finally, his hands gripped the front of the college blouse, and with a primal roar, he ripped it open, buttons exploding as her breasts bounced free, nipples red and swollen. “Daddy’s ripping his little girl’s blouse,” Radha howled, “expose your sweet muffin’s tits, make them bounce for you!” Mike’s fingers plunged under the cotton panties, rubbing her clit roughly, then slipping inside her wet core. Radha screamed, “Finger-fuck your daughter’s slutty cunt, Daddy—harder, make your sweet muffin squirt again!” her hips bucking, her eyes locked on mine with a wicked grin.
Mike’s fingers pumped relentlessly, curling inside her, her core gushing around his hand, soaking the cotton panties and squirting onto the couch. “Scream louder, my sweet muffin,” he commanded, resuming the spanks on her exposed ass with sharp slaps, her cheeks burning redder. Radha wailed, “Spank your cheating daughter’s fat ass, Daddy—make it burn while you finger my sloppy pussy, wreck your little girl!” Her screams were public, her body convulsing as she came hard, juices flooding his hand and drenching the cotton. “I’m cumming on Daddy’s fingers—right in front of my drunk husband!” she howled, her voice raw, her ass jiggling with each spank

[ashipremkumar]

Her voice turned into a desperate, filthy beg. “Daddy, please—lay your naughty little girl next to my sleeping husband,” she gasped loudly, pulling him closer, her hand stroking his massive bulge. “Put me against him, pound this married daughter’s cunt with your huge fucking cock while I press into his side. Fill me again like last time—flood my womb with your hot, thick jizz right next to my hubby!” Mike, his eyes blazing with lust, scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her trembling body across the room. He positioned her carefully on the couch, her sweat-soaked back pressed firmly against my “sleeping” chest, her red, stinging ass grinding against my thigh, the tiny pleated skirt flipped up to her waist. Radha’s almond eyes locked onto mine through my slitted lids, a wicked, knowing grin spreading across her lips as she felt my manhood throb against her. She reached out, grabbing my hands tightly, intertwining our fingers, her gaze burning with love and depravity as Mike remained oblivious to my act.
Mike knelt before her, his hands gripping the waistband of the cotton panties. With a savage growl, he tore the crotch open in one brutal rip, the soft fabric shredding to expose her dripping, married core, the pink bow now dangling uselessly at her hip. “Daddy’s ripping his little girl’s panties,” Radha screamed, “open your sweet muffin’s slutty cunt for that monster cock!” Mike freed his massive, veiny cock—thick as her wrist, pulsating with need—and rubbed the swollen head against her clit, teasing her mercilessly. The slick tip glided over her sensitive nub, smearing her juices and his pre-cum, making her hips buck wildly. “Beg for it, my naughty daughter,” he snarled, slapping his cock against her clit, each wet smack drawing a desperate moan. Radha’s screams filled the room, “Please, Daddy—shove that huge fucking cock in your little girl’s married pussy! I need it, I’m your cock-hungry sweet muffin—fuck me raw!” Her begging was frantic, her core clenching visibly, desperate for him.
Mike positioned the head at her entrance, and I watched, transfixed, as his monster cock began to stretch my sweet wife’s married vagina. The thick shaft forced her lips apart, inch by agonizing inch, her light brown folds gripping it like a vice, the cotton panties framing the obscene sight. Radha’s scream was wild, animalistic, “Daddy’s splitting his little girl’s tight cunt—oh fuck, it’s too big!” as he impaled her fully, his cock plunging deep into her womb with one brutal thrust, her body jolting against mine. Her core stretched impossibly wide, the veins on his shaft pulsing against her walls, her juices squirting around him. She squeezed my hands tighter, her almond eyes locked on mine, a mix of ecstasy and love as she felt every inch. Mike, unaware of my consciousness, groaned loudly, “Fuck, your pussy’s so tight, my sweet muffin—gripping Daddy’s cock like a fucking vice, even in my daughter’s torn panties!” He began pounding her with savage force, each thrust slamming her against me, the couch creaking violently, her breasts bouncing from the ripped blouse, nipples grazing my arm.
“Daddy’s wrecking his little girl’s married cunt next to her drunk husband!” Radha howled, her dirty talk loud and public, her core gushing around his shaft, squirting onto my thigh and soaking the torn cotton. Mike gripped her hips, spanking her red ass with every thrust, the slaps echoing. “Take it, you filthy daughter,” he roared, his cock stretching her obscenely. Radha’s orgasms exploded one after another, her body convulsing against me, “I’m cumming on Daddy’s fat dick—wreck your sweet muffin’s cunt next to my sleeping man!” Her screams were deliberate, teasing me as my manhood throbbed against her back. “Fill your little girl again, Daddy—pump your scalding load into my womb, breed your nasty whore while my husband’s pressed against me!” Mike’s climax erupted, his cock pulsating violently as he unleashed thick, endless ropes of cum into her womb, flooding her so completely it overflowed in creamy streams down her thighs, soaking the couch, my leg, the pleated skirt, and the torn cotton panties. “Take every drop, my sweet muffin,” he roared, pumping deep, his groans guttural as he forced it all in, her body shuddering against mine.
As he caught his breath, still buried inside her, Mike murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, “I’ve wanted this for so long, Radha—fucking you in my daughter’s uniform, right next to your husband. I have more of her old dresses—tiny skirts, crop tops, even her old bikinis. I want to do this again, dress you up, punish my sweet muffin over and over.” Radha moaned softly, her body still trembling, “Yes, Daddy—bring them all, make me your little girl every time.” Mike slowly withdrew, his cock glistening with their combined essence, and dressed with a smirk. Radha, her legs shaky, walked him to the door, the torn uniform clinging to her sweat-soaked body, cum dripping down her thighs. At the threshold, she kissed him deeply, her tongue entwining with his, then slowly peeled off the cum-soaked cotton panties, the torn crotch dangling. She pressed them into his hand, purring, “Keep your daughter’s panties, Daddy—to remember how much you loved and lusted for your sweet muffin, how you wrecked her married cunt.” Mike took them, then pulled her close again, his voice low and confessional. “Radha, I’ve had these kinky fantasies about my own daughter for years—touching her, punishing her, fucking her in these clothes. You enacting it tonight… it felt so fucking good, better than I ever imagined. I like you more now, lust you more—I’m obsessed. Both you and your husband are so lucky to have you in our lives, this filthy, perfect slut wife.” Radha smiled wickedly, kissing him once more before he left.
Radha curled against me on the couch, the ripped college blouse hanging open, skirt flipped up, her ass red and stinging. “You felt it all, didn’t you, you filthy genius?” she purred, her fingers scooping Mike’s cum from her core, slurping it down with a moan. “Daddy carried me, rested me against you, ripped his little girl’s panties, teased my clit until I begged, then stretched my married pussy with that monster cock—gripping it like a vice, impaling my womb while I held your hands, looking into your eyes. He thought you were out cold, praising how tight I was in his daughter’s torn panties, confessing his fantasies about his real daughter and how good it felt with me, saying he lusts me more now, that we’re both lucky to have me.” I “woke,” pulling her close, my cock hard and soaked. “I loved every second, Radha—invite him again.” Our love burned brighter, her depravity my eternal flame.
She nestled closer, her sweat-drenched body pressed against mine, the torn uniform clinging to her curves. Her fingers scooped another thick glob of Mike’s cum, smearing it across my lips before licking it clean herself with a moan. “Fuck, darling,” she whispered, her voice raw and dripping with depravity, “Daddy’s thick, stinking jizz is oozing out of his sweet muffin’s ruined cunt like a fucking river, and I’m licking it up like the filthy whore I am. That spanking, that carrying, resting me against you, ripping his daughter’s panties, teasing my clit until I begged, then stretching my pussy so wide I screamed—it was pure fucking heaven.” She pressed her lips to my ear, her breath hot, her almond eyes blazing with taboo lust. “You know, darling, I’ve always had this Daddy-daughter fantasy—being punished, spanked raw, fucked like a little girl by a man who owns me. Tonight, with Mike, it was everything I dreamed of.”

[ashipremkumar]

As she spoke, my eyes drifted to the framed photo on the side table—her mother, 49 years old, still stunning, her full 38D breasts straining against a tight saree, her thick hips and round ass swaying in the picture from last year’s family gathering. Radha caught my glance, her wicked grin widening. “Oh, look at you, darling—staring at Mommy’s photo right after I confess my Daddy-daughter kink with Mike. Your filthy cock’s already swelling again, isn’t it?” She slid her hand down, wrapping her fingers around my hardening manhood, stroking slowly. “You must be imagining teasing her tight, mature cunt, those hairy lips parting for your cock, her heavy tits bouncing as you spank her thick ass.” She pumped faster, her voice dripping with mockery and lust. “Go on, darling—call her ‘oh mommy’ while I stroke you, picture her moaning for you.” I groaned, lost in the fantasy, murmuring, “Oh mommy…” Radha laughed filthily, pushing it further. “Yes, that’s it—imagine Mommy giving you those lustful, love-filled moans, ‘Oh, my naughty boy, I’ve wanted to feel your cock since I saw you pounding my daughter, stretching her pussy wide—now wreck your mommy’s tight, hairy cunt!’” Her strokes matched the rhythm of the imagined thrusts, her almond eyes gleaming as she teased me to the edge.
Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “I’ve seen you watching my mom, darling—your mother-in-law, 49 years old, still so fucking hot, her curves even fuller than mine, those heavy 38D tits and that thick, jiggly ass she sways under her sarees. You stare when she visits and stays with us, when she bends over to pick something up, her blouse gaping to show her deep cleavage, her dark nipples poking through her thin bras. I’ve caught you sneaking glances when she changes into her nightie, the fabric clinging to her mature body, her thick thighs and that hairy pussy outline visible. She has such a soft corner for you, darling—always hugging you a little too long, pressing her tits against you, laughing at your jokes, touching your arm. And I’ve seen her tease you deliberately—bending low in front of you, letting her pallu slip, ‘accidentally’ brushing her ass against your crotch when she passes by in the kitchen.”
Radha giggled filthily, her hand still stroking my cock as it pulsed at her words. “Mom’s sex-deprived, darling—Dad’s been gone for years, and she’s starving for cock. She’s told me how she masturbates every night, fingering her hairy, dripping pussy, using her old dildo, dreaming of a strong man to wreck her mature body. She’s depraved, just like me—maybe even worse at her age, craving to be spanked, fucked raw, called a naughty mommy. You should get her some nice mature lingerie, darling—sheer lace bras that barely hold her heavy tits, crotchless panties to show her hairy cunt, silky sleepwear that clings to her curves, short nighties that ride up to expose her thick ass. Gift them to her when she visits next, tell her they’re for her comfort, but we both know it’ll make her tease you harder—bending over in those sheer panties, letting you see her wet pussy lips, ‘accidentally’ flashing her nipples through the lace.”
Radha’s eyes locked on mine, gleaming with wicked mischief. “If Mom’s interested, darling, would you like to try her? Fuck your mother-in-law, spank her fat, mature ass, make her call you Daddy or Son while I watch? I’d love to see you pound her hairy cunt, fill her with your cum, maybe get Mike to join and turn it into a depraved family fuck-fest. I’ll talk to her, darling—hint at how much you want her, how you’d worship her 49-year-old body, make her feel desired again. Imagine it: her screaming as you rip her new lingerie, spanking her until she begs, her mature pussy gushing around your cock as she moans, ‘I’ve wanted your cock since I saw you fuck my daughter—pound your mommy now!’” She kissed me deeply, her tongue tasting of Mike’s cum, her voice a filthy promise. “I’ll make it happen, darling—Mom’s soft corner for you is already there, her teasing is her way of flirting. With the right lingerie, she’ll be dripping for you, calling you her naughty boy.”
We lay there in post-marathon bliss, our bodies still humming, when Radha suddenly sat up, her almond eyes sparkling with mischief. “Darling, it’s our anniversary—let’s video call Mom and ask for her blessings, make it special.” She grabbed her phone, propping it up on the nightstand, and hit video call. As it rang, she snatched my discarded t-shirt from the floor, pulling it over her head to cover her bare chest—the fabric clinging to her sweat-slicked breasts, her dark nipples still poking through, while her lower half remained naked, Mike’s thick cum still leaking from her well-fucked pussy in slow, creamy rivulets down her thighs. Her mom answered, her face lighting up on the screen, dressed in a thin cotton nighty that hugged her 38D curves, the neckline low enough to hint at her deep cleavage. “Hello, beta—happy anniversary to you both!” Radha purred, “Thank you, Mom—we miss you so much, don’t we, darling?” She nudged me, her tone dripping with double meaning. “Especially my husband—he’s been talking about you non-stop, saying how much he misses his favorite mother-in-law, how he can’t wait for you to visit next month.” I played along, my voice thick, “Yes, Mom, we really miss you—your presence makes everything better.” Radha giggled softly, continuing, “Mom, darling’s been hinting at wanting a special anniversary gift this year—something only you can help with when you come. Maybe… give him something to remember you by?”
Her mom laughed, oblivious but intrigued, “Oh, what does my son want? I’ll bring something nice.” Radha’s voice turned shamelessly suggestive, “Actually, Mom, send me your bra and panty measurements—36D or 38D now? And your panty size? My darling son wants to buy some sweet home dresses for his loving, caring mother-in-law whom he loves so, so much. Something comfy for when you stay with us—maybe silky nighties, lace bras, things that make you feel special.” Her mom hesitated, her cheeks flushing visibly on the screen, her chest rising and falling faster, knowing I was watching. “Beta… are you sure? Your husband’s right there… I’m embarrassed to say sizes aloud on video.” Radha pressed gently but firmly, “Mom, don’t worry—there’s nothing to be shy about! We’re family, and my darling son adores you. Come on, tell us—38D bra? Size 14 panties? He’s dying to spoil you.” Her mom stammered, her face turning a deeper red, her chest swelling with each nervous breath as she got lost in her own lustful thoughts—her eyes glazing slightly, imagining my hands on her, her depraved body betraying her with a subtle squirm. “Alright… yes, 38D bra, size 14 panties. But beta, this feels odd with him watching…”
As she spoke, her mom absentmindedly adjusted her nighty, tugging the neckline lower to reveal more of her deep, mature cleavage, the soft swell of her heavy breasts nearly spilling out, her dark nipples faintly visible through the thin fabric. Radha winked at me, noticing my cock throb visibly under the sheets at her mother’s shy confession and teasing adjustment. She wrapped her fingers around it, stroking slowly as she cooed into the phone, “See, Mom? Someone here is really expecting you so much—look how eager he is for you to come stay with us, be with your loved daughter and her SON. He’ll keep you so happy, filled with all his love, won’t you, darling?” As she spoke those words—“filled with his love”—her grip tightened, pumping faster, and I couldn’t hold back. My cock erupted, thick ropes of cum spurting all over her hand, her belly, her breasts under the t-shirt, splattering in hot, sticky arcs as I groaned loudly. Radha laughed wickedly, still on the call, “Oh Mom, listen—my son’s so eager for you, he just came all over me at the thought of you staying! He’s painting his slut wife white just imagining keeping you happy and filled!”
Her mom’s eyes widened on the screen, her cheeks burning crimson, her chest heaving as she got lost again in thought, her hand lingering on her nighty, subtly pressing against her heavy breasts. Radha leaned close to my ear, whispering hotly while stroking my still-spurting cock, “See how her mum’s teasing you, darling—adjusting that nighty to show her fat cleavage, her cheeks red, her tits swelling like she’s getting wet just thinking about you. I’m sure her hairy pussy’s dripping right now, imagining your cock filling her.” Her mom giggled innocently, her voice a little breathy, “Beta, you’re too much! I miss you both so much… I’d love to come and stay with you permanently, live with my daughter and my sweet son. He’s always so caring…” She trailed off, her depraved body giving in to the forbidden pull, not knowing how badly her sweet, loving daughter wanted her to experience every sexual pleasure with her loving hubby—who lusted after her mother fiercely but loved her with all his heart.
Radha hung up with a filthy grin, licking my cum from her fingers. “Mom’s hooked, darling—she’s shy but dripping at the idea. Next month, she’ll be here, measurements in hand, ready for your ‘sweet home dresses’ to turn into crotchless panties and sheer nighties. I’ll make sure she knows you want to fill her with love, just like you fill me.”
The month flew by in a haze of teasing and anticipation. Radha had taken charge of the lingerie shopping, pulling me into our bedroom one lazy afternoon, her laptop open to a secret browser tab filled with kinky designs. “Come here, darling,” she purred, patting the bed beside her, her fingers already tracing my thigh. “Let’s pick out some filthy treats for Mommy—make her feel young, sexy, and ready to spread for her son.”
She scrolled through pages of non-wired bralettes, soft, unstructured cups that looked modest and motherly from the front—like something a sweet Indian mummy would wear under her cotton saree—but designed to cradle and lift her heavy 38D breasts naturally, letting them hang freely without the cruel grip of underwire or padded cups. “See this one?” Radha cooed, zooming in on a delicate ivory lace bralette with thin straps and a gentle scoop neck. “It looks so innocent, so loving and maternal… but look how it clings to her lovely mammary, letting those big, soft boobs sway and jiggle with every step. No padding, no wire—just pure, natural hang. Her large dark brown nipples will poke right through the lace, and her wide areolas will shadow beneath like forbidden fruit.”

[ashipremkumar]

She clicked on another: a soft pastel pink cotton-modal blend, modest high neck, tiny bow between the cups. “This one screams ‘sweet mummy’—but when she leans forward, her heavy tits will spill forward, nipples straining, begging to be sucked.” Radha’s voice dropped to a filthy whisper. “These are the same nipples that suckled me, darling—my mouth latched on, pulling milk from her swollen breasts when I was a baby. Now… she lusts to have them in your mouth, her darling son-in-law, sucking hard while she moans, ‘Make your mummy happy, beta—drink from me again, but this time with your cock buried deep in my hairy cunt.’”
She added three more non-wired bralettes:
A sheer black mesh with floral embroidery over the nipples—modest coverage but completely see-through when wet.
A silky champagne satin with ribbon ties at the shoulders—easy to pull down and expose her full, hanging breasts.
A cozy grey marl lounge bralette with a deep V—perfect for “casual” home wear, but her dark areolas would be visible through the thin fabric, her nipples stiff and aching for your teeth.
Next, the boyshort panties—traditional high-waist cuts that looked demure and mummy-like from the outside, but every pair crotchless.
A soft cotton navy pair with white polka dots and a hidden slit framed by tiny ruffles.
A lace-trimmed beige boyshort with pearl beads lining the open crotch—“She’ll feel the beads rub her clit when she walks,” Radha giggled.
A silky emerald green with a discreet back zip and front opening—“So you can bend her over the kitchen counter and slide right in.”
Then the nighties—short, flowing, maternal in vibe but sinful in cut:
A baby-pink cotton knee-length with side slits to the hip and a modest round neck—but no bra needed, her breasts swaying freely beneath.
A black silk slip, mid-thigh, with deep side slits and a lace neckline that dipped low when she breathed.
An ivory satin chemise with thin straps and high slits—“She’ll look like a loving angel… until she spreads her legs and her hairy pussy peeks out.”
Radha leaned back, her hand sliding to my cock, stroking lazily. “And babydolls, darling—get a few of these, see if Mummy likes them too. They’re so flirty, floating over her curves, with matching thongs or crotchless panties underneath.” She added:
A sheer white babydoll with fur trim and open-cup bra—her hanging breasts fully exposed.
A red lace flyaway with garter straps and matching crotchless panty.
A soft lavender chiffon with underbust support—lifting but not confining, letting her heavy tits bounce beneath the sheer fabric.
I grinned, my cock throbbing in her grip. “Let’s buy from Victoria’s Secret—top quality, sexy as hell.”
Radha burst into filthy laughter, pumping me faster. “Oh, darling, Victoria’s Secret? You naughty boy, dressing your mother-in-law in premium American slutwear like a high-class Mumbai mistress. I love it—she’ll blush when she sees the pink bags, knowing her son picked them to make her drip for him.” She kissed me deeply, then added with a smirk: “One more thing—add a ladies trimmer and shaver to the cart. Mum’s probably got a wild, untamed bush after years without a man. You can help her trim and shape it, darling—sit her on the bathroom counter, spread those thick thighs, and groom her mature pussy into a neat little triangle or heart. She’ll moan as the buzz tickles her clit, her juices dripping while you prepare her cunt for your cock.”
We placed the order, the total obscene, my cock leaking at the thought of her mom unwrapping it all—non-wired bralettes clinging to her hanging breasts, dark nipples and areolas visible through sheer fabric, crotchless boyshorts framing her hairy slit, short nighties with slits flashing her thick thighs, babydolls floating over her curves, and a trimmer buzzing against her clit as I shape her pussy for the first time.
Radha licked her lips, scooping a fresh glob of Mike’s dried cum from her thigh and sucking it clean. “Mom’s going to be your sensual, sweet, loving mummy-slut, darling—her nipples that fed me now aching for your mouth, her heavy boobs hanging free in soft lace, her hairy cunt groomed by your hands… all for you to fuck, fill, and make happy.”