Adultery The Husband’s Doubt

[heygiwriter]

The Husband’s Doubt

This is 98% fiction. The 2% real thing is a memory from years ago. I went to a friend’s apartment in Bangalore for drinks and found a man from the building sitting there — half-drunk, eyes red, quietly breaking down. My friend was tipsy too, patting his back. After the man left, my friend spilled the reason: the husband was convinced his wife was cheating on him.

He told me the little incidents that had sparked the doubt. I laughed when I heard them — nothing concrete, just ordinary stuff any overthinking husband could twist.
But later that night, alone, those same tiny moments kept replaying in my head. I started wondering… what if there really was something behind them? The more I thought about it, the more I built an entire story around those doubts — weaving in the love, the insecurity, the slow unraveling. It became darker, more gripping, more fascinating than I expected. It hooked me completely.

This is that story — the one I imagined all those years ago, finally written down.

Like always My stories wont have immediate sex.. also considering this is a cheating/cuckold kind of story.. it will take natural escalation and reasoning.. but once that part nears.. i will try to justify what you expect :)

[heygiwriter]

Characters

Nivisha (Wife)


Nivisha — Nivi to those who love her — is 29.  5.5 height...Fair skin.. pretty in that quiet South Indian way. Motherhood has softened her over the years, filled her out in places that make her sarees cling just a little more than they used to. She wears them almost always now, dbangd modestly, though nothing can quite hide the lush curves beneath.

Prem has been mad about her since college. Nine years married, one beautiful daughter Aara (now eight), and she still feels like the girl he chased for two years before she said yes. She left a richer life behind without complaint, buried old dreams when he asked her to stay home. She seems content — helping Aara with homework, moving gracefully around their home, the picture of a devoted wife and mother.

Prem (Husband)
Prem is 30, from charming, well built to average guy over years, ambitious, always planning the next step. He works hard — trading job for years, freelancing nights, now secretly launching his own IT outsourcing company to give her the life he always promised. But he overthinks. Always has. It cost him his family once. Now it’s starting to cost him his peace.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 1 – Preparing a Surprise


Prem gripped the steering wheel of his white Swift, the Chennai morning sun glinting off the hood as he headed toward the city outskirts. The AC hummed softly, but his mind was louder — buzzing with excitement, nerves, a little disbelief.

Nine years ago he never imagined owning a car, let alone starting his own IT outsourcing company. Yet here he was, driving to sign the final papers with a major IT firm — the deal that would officially launch his venture. 

Nine years of grinding nights, overtime shifts, quiet sacrifices. All of it leading to today, their ninth anniversary.

He pinched his thigh hard. “Ouch,” he muttered, grinning. Not a dream.

His phone rang. Nivi’s name flashed on the screen, her photo with Aara lighting it up — both smiling, Nivi’s long hair loose, her fair skin glowing, that gentle ripeness of motherhood making her even more beautiful in his eyes.

“Where are you?” she asked, voice warm, a little playful.
“Important work, da. Client meeting.”

“How long?”

“Maybe two hours.”

“Okay, good,” she said quickly.

He laughed. “Good? What’s so good about it?”

“onnum illainga (Nothing dear)… ,” she teased. Then after a pause she said

“I’m going to the tailor — need to stitch a couple of blouses.”

“Go ahead, Nivi . I’ll be home by noon.”

“Okay.”

He cut the call and glanced at her photo again. 

Nivi had only grown more stunning with time. Nearly a decade of motherhood had added that irresistible softness — fuller breasts, rounded hips, the way her sarees now dbangd over curves that turned heads without her noticing. He felt a rush of gratitude.

If not for her quiet strength, her blind trust when they had nothing, he would have crumbled long back. When he was empty-handed, jobless, disowned, she had held his hand with a baby on the way and said, “We’ll make it.”
Today was the day he’d prove it to her.

The surprise: the office key to his new company, his new title as CEO. He’d quit the trading job three months ago, working in secret with help from his old boss. Nivi still thought he was heading to the same office every morning. 

Tonight, at the small party hall he’d booked for their anniversary, he’d hand her the key and watch her face.
He smiled at the thought as the massive glass gates of the IT park came into view. His dreams were finally stepping into the next level.

Inside the air-conditioned CFO’s office, Prem straightened his shirt, heart racing with hope.

“Hi sir, I’m Prem — from the new outsourcing venture.”

The man behind the desk looked up. Sharp features, expensive watch. He froze for a second, then leaned back with a slow, almost amused smile.

“Prem? You?”
Prem’s stomach dropped.

“Aaravind… is it really you?”

Twelve years vanished in an instant.

College. Aaravind — the smooth, chocolate-boy type who had been Nivi’s “bestie” by default, because their families were old friends. 

To Nivi he was just a harmless friend. 

To Aaravind, she was something to claim.

He’d spread quiet rumors — that Nivi was clingy, that things had “happened” between them. Nothing overt, just enough poison to make people whisper. Prem had seethed silently. He and Nivi hadn’t even spoken much then, but every time their eyes met across the canteen or classroom, something electric passed — a mutual, unspoken knowing. They were already in love, even if no words had been said.

Aaravind had always been the opposite of Prem in everything — sports, looks, confidence. Not just in love, even in sports they were enemies. 

During one inter-department cricket match, he decided to force the issue.

Prem remembered it like a scar.

Aaravind had boasted to his teammates that after the match he’d take Nivi into the indoor sports room (being decorated for the post-match ceremony) and “try his luck.” He was ready to face consequences later. One senior, Mark, overheard. Mark was Aaravind’s closest friend despite being senior. He sent a group text: “Go watch the indoor room after the match. Love scene coming soon.”

The match went on. Nivi sat in the stands. Prem batted with his senior at the other end. Suddenly, a few opposition players drifted off the field toward the indoor block. Mark shouted something in Tamil — “Oru than poi video edu… ellarum paakalam.”(One guy go record it, let everyone see)

Aaravind had vanished. Nivi too.

Prem’s blood ran cold. He scored a fifty, scanned the crowd — no Nivi. 

On the next ball he deliberately got out, stumped. Before anyone noticed, he sprinted off the field.

He was searching for her and finally found one guy from the opposite team recording something, so he realized it could be Nivi and Aaravind. He sensed the issue and reached the indoor room just in time.

Through the half-open door he saw Aaravind pinning Nivi against a table, her hands pushing at his chest, voice shaking with anger and fear. Prem didn’t think. He burst in, one solid punch sent Aaravind reeling. They grappled. Prem grabbed a loose iron rod from the decorations — it caught Aaravind across the forehead as he fell, tearing skin, blood running instantly.

Nivi stood frozen, dress dishevelled, eyes wide. He grabbed her out and consoled her. “Forget this…”

almost 20 minutes passed..

This was the first time they both spoke.

Prem: You panicked? Im here for you dont panic...

She said, “I’m not panicked… especially when you are with me…”

He moved…

She asked, “How did you find me? You were playing so well… how did you know I might be in trouble?”

Prem didn’t say much. “Come back to this room tonight, after the function,” he told her, breathing hard. “You’ll find answers.”

That evening, after the ceremony, everyone left. Nivi searched the corner where he’d thrown his jersey. Beneath it was a small hidden box. Inside — a love letter from Prem, shaky handwriting confessing everything.

She smiled, eyes wet. “You too love me?”

He stepped out from the shadows. “Yes, my love.”

They proposed right there, surrounded by leftover streamers and empty chairs.

Thanks to the man who tried to ruin everything, they found each other.

Twelve years later.

The same Aaravind sat across the desk — older, sharper, successful. And on his forehead, faint but unmistakable, the scar Prem had left that day.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 2 – Old Scars, New Fears


Prem sat rigid in the leather chair, the air-conditioning suddenly too cold.

Aaravind leaned forward, fingers steepled, that same old half-smile playing on his lips.

“Small world, isn’t it?” he said, voice smooth as ever. 

His eyes flicked to the scar — just a thin white line now — then back to Prem. 

“You look… tired, man. Life treating you well?”

Prem’s throat tightened. The room felt smaller.

“The deal,” Prem managed. “We’re here to talk about the outsourcing contract.”

Aaravind nodded slowly, opening a folder. “Of course. Solid proposal. Good margins. We like backing fresh talent.” 

He paused, eyes narrowing with mock concern. 

“How’s Nivi these days? Still as beautiful as ever, I bet.”

The name hit Prem like a slap.

He saw it in a flash — Aaravind’s hands on her waist that day, her struggling, the blood on the floor.
Prem stood abruptly. “I… I’ve changed my mind.”

Aaravind raised an eyebrow. “Changed your mind? We’re ready to sign today.”

“I’ll find another partner.”

He turned and walked out before Aaravind could reply, heart hammering, palms sweating.

In the car, the excitement of the morning was gone. Replaced by a sick, familiar churn.

He asked about Nivi. First thing. He still wants her. This whole deal was just a way back in.

Prem drove, not toward home, but toward the old trading office in T. Nagar.
He needed to talk to someone who understood. Someone who had been there from the beginning.
Pratap . his old boss.

The man who gave him his first real job after the elopement. Who helped find their tiny rental when they had nothing. Who stood by them like family when Prem’s own father slammed the door forever.

Pratap’s cabin was the same — cluttered desk, filter coffee smell, faded photos on the wall.

“Prem!” Pratap stood, broad smile, warm hug. “What a surprise. Sit, sit. Coffee?”

Prem sank into the chair, the weight of the morning crashing down.

Pratap studied him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Prem exhaled. “Aaravind. The CFO I was meeting — it’s him. College Aaravind.”

Pratap’s face puzzling? 

So what? You should be happy meeting this guy right? He would have helped you .

Prem said no.

Pratap: Is he a enemy from past?.

Prem remained silent

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 2 Continuation

Pratap poured coffee, handed him a cup. 

“What happened?” You consider me as a big brother right why cant you tell me


Prem told him — the deal, the question about Nivi, the sudden refusal.

Pratap listened quietly, then sighed.

“You did right walking away. But… be careful. Men like him don’t forget.”

He leaned back, eyes distant.

“You know, I never told you this… 
You never know why i was too good to you?”

Prem puzzled

Pratap said.. Your wife.. she reminds me my ex wife.


The answer shocked Prem..

Prem froze.

One of reason why prem wanted to quit the trading company soon is his unusual closeness he shows toward Nivi.
. 
Prem had a deep secret. Ever since Aravind touching her in the Indoor room .. even though it was forced on her… prem had been insecure a bit.. He never liked when some men speak with her ... Even after marriage he was strict to her and never bring anyone home.. Except Pratap and Prakash..

Pratap was a thorough gentleman but prem never trusted anyone. 

When Aara was born, pratap was first one to come to hospital to see them.. Pratap caressed her hair with love. Prem felt unease.. He is not tempted or something.. He is just feeling odd and nauseating looking at 45+ old man touching his wife's head.. 


From then he avoided bringing him home..
 
Pratap knows something bothered Prem and he never once confronted. 
He let him be himself and gave him a space. 

Back to the present

Pratap continued softly.

Its better you see different company for this contract..

 “Nivi is beautiful..i have seen men ogling her,, When she came to the office with lunch for you. Or during festival visits. Beautiful woman, devoted wife… some men can’t resist trying.”

The words landed like stones.

Pratap was talking about his “wife.” 

But Prem heard something else.

In a way that pratap was openly commenting on Nivi beauty like he was also standing in a line….

All those years — Pratap’s extra help, the bonuses, the invitations to family functions, the way he always complimented Nivi’s cooking, her sarees, how lucky Prem was…

Was it all just kindness?

Or had Pratap been waiting too?

Prem forced a smile, finished the coffee, thanked him.

But as he drove home, the doubt spread like ink in water.

He could never accept when Pratap said that line to him...

He glanced at the clock. Nivi would be back from the tailor soon.

Aara at college.

The house empty.

Where does she went out?


And that “Okay, good” from the phone call echoed again.


Phone rings now its Pratap: 

Pratap: You are not someone to leave like that I don't know you misread some of my words. When you have time just come to me..I need to talk to you clarify things.....


Let me keep simple... All i tried to tell is l I wanted to warn you about some men like Prakash..


Prem felt a little uneasy... did i doubted him too much am i over thinked again


PRAKASH… the one man prem hated more than he hated aravind…


Just thinking about him.. 

As he sat on the sofa..

His mind reel back to the Last day of examination.. the day he and Nivi eloped… that eventually landed here 

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 3 – The Runaway


Prem sat on the sofa, staring at nothing. The house was quiet — too quiet.

Pratap’s call still rang in his ears. Prakash’s name. That old warning.

It pulled him back. All the way back.

To the town. To the beginning of the end.

After they propose love to each other. They roamed together like love boards in college, half the week, they bunk the college and been visiting theaters, park , even bike ride to nearest tourist places... what once started as doing things in secret become open.. As day progress..

They roamed the town like that — quiet lanes, temple steps, the lake behind the college. Talking dreams. Her boutique plans. His business ideas.

Love grew fast, fierce.

But her father saw them one evening — near the bus stand, Prem’s arm around her waist.

The beating came two days later.

Prem alone, walking home. Four men from the shadows.

Fists to the stomach. Kicks to the ribs.

“Stay away from my daughter, you worthless boy.”

He bled on the ground, vision blurring. The issue caught fire when Prem Father got to know about this..

It was their final year of college, Prem father doesnt want to give his son a false hope and he wanted him to study first. He decided to speak to her father once they finish the graduation. But he didnt share this idea to his son.
They behaved properly fearing both parents.

As the last examination came… Nivi father find her a rich match

Word reached her father’s plan: marriage fixed. Groom 38, rich Hotel owner, “perfect match.”

Nivi panicked. Called Prem from a friend’s phone, crying.

“They’re doing the engagement next week. I can’t… I won’t.”

Prem’s ribs still ached, but he said, “We’ll run.”

His father surprised him.
“I heard what happened. If you love her… I’ll talk to her father. We’re distant relatives anyway. It can be arranged properly.”

Hope flickered.

But doubt flooded in.

He’ll change his mind. Pressure me to join the business. Force someone else. Like her father did to her. He may be faking this just to avoid me from stopping her marriage. Overthinking won.


That night, Prem took the cash from his father’s shelf — five lakhs for a land deal.
2 days later.
He took Nivi to the registrar office with two college friends as witnesses.
Simple ceremony. Mangalsutra tied. Signatures. Married.
 
They went to Prem’s house first. But as he enters the house, the regular builder who had given the 5 Lakhs to Prem's father gave a forgery complaint to him.. Things turn ugly..

His father’s face — shock, then rage.

“You stole from me? For her?”

He threw them out. “You’re no son of mine.”

Next morning, fearing Nivi’s father’s men, they caught a train to Chennai.

A friend’s brother arranged temporary space — a tiny room in a chawl, shared bathroom, damp walls, constant noise.

Nivi struggled. Morning sickness. The heat. The smells.

But they had love. That ignored all odds

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 3 Continuation

That first night in the tiny room — a single thin mat on the bare floor, one weak bulb flickering overhead, casting soft shadows on the peeling walls — they stood facing each other, suddenly shy.

Married for few days now... Yet in this way, they were complete strangers.

Prem’s heart pounded. He had dreamed of this moment for years, but now that it was real, his hands trembled. 

He stepped closer, cupped her face gently, and kissed her — soft, lingering, tasting the salt of her earlier tears.

Nivi’s lips parted under his, but her body stayed stiff, breath coming quick and shallow.

“I’m scared,” she whispered against his mouth, voice barely audible, cheeks burning.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “Me too, Nivi. We’ll go slow. Only what you want.”

She nodded, eyes lowered, fingers twisting the edge of her saree pallu.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, but still gentle. His hands moved to her shoulders, sliding the pallu away. The saree loosened, falling in soft folds to the floor.


She stood in her blouse and petticoat, arms instinctively crossing over her chest, cheeks burning with shyness. 

Her body was soft, womanly — breasts full and firm, pressing against the thin cotton blouse, the curve of her waist dipping in before flaring to wide hips.



Prem’s breath caught. “You’re… so beautiful.”

She blushed darker, looking away.

He unhooked her blouse slowly, button by button, his fingers brushing warm skin. When it opened, he eased it off her shoulders. Her bra was simple, white, but it could barely contain the new swell of her breasts. He traced the curve with trembling fingertips, reverent.

Nivi shivered, goosebumps rising. “Prem…”

He kissed her neck, her collarbone, whispering, “It’s okay. Just us.”

He reached behind to unhook her bra. It fell away, and her breasts spilled free — round, heavy, nipples dark and already hardening in the cool air.

Prem stared, enthralled, then lowered his mouth to one, kissing softly, tongue circling. She gasped, hands flying to his hair — not pushing away, just holding.

He guided her down to the mat, petticoat untied, slipped off. She lay naked before him, dusky skin glowing in the dim light, one arm across her breasts, the other over her belly in shy protection.

Prem undressed quickly, shirt, pants, everything gone. His arousal obvious, hard and straining.

Nivi’s eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and nervousness.

He lay beside her, kissing her deeply, hand stroking her side, her hip, her thigh. Slowly coaxing her legs apart.

His fingers found her centre — warm, wet already, despite her fear.

She whimpered into his mouth.

He positioned himself, tip pressing gently.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Her eyes met his — wide, trusting, full of love.

He pushed in slowly — just the head. She tensed, a small cry escaping.

He stopped. “Breathe, Nivi . Tell me if it hurts too much.”

She nodded, biting her lip.

He moved deeper, inch by inch, feeling her tightness, her body adjusting. Pain flickered across her face, nails digging into his shoulders.

When he was fully inside, he stilled, forehead against hers.

“You okay?”

She nodded, tears at the corners of her eyes. “It hurts… but don’t .....” he bite her lips... its an invitation from her that she need this...

He began to move — slow, careful thrusts. The mat creaked beneath them. Thin walls — they kept quiet, breaths mingling, muffled moans.

Gradually, pain eased for her. Pleasure crept in. Her hips rose tentatively to meet his.

He kissed her tears away. “I love you so much.”

Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper.

The rhythm built — awkward at first, then finding each other. Sweat slicked their skin. Her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hard points.

She clung to him, whispering his name like a prayer.

When release came, it was quiet but overwhelming — him spilling inside her with a shuddering groan against her neck, her body tightening around him, a soft cry stifled against his shoulder.

They stayed joined, breathing hard, hearts racing together.

Tears rolled down her cheeks — not from pain now, but from everything. The fear, the love, the new beginning.
He kissed them away. “I love you,” he whispered, voice thick
.
“Forever,” she answered, arms tight around him.

In that tiny, dingy room, with nothing but a mat and a flickering bulb, they had everything.

Love had won.


Next day, Prem walked Chennai streets — resume in hand, heat beating down.

Rejections. “No experience.” “Come later.”

Until one small trading office.

The owner — the mid thirties man — looked at his resume.

“Part-time? Three hours a day. 5000 a month. Rest of time, search for better. Take it or leave.”
Prem took it.

He came home with 2000 advance, grinning despite the pain in his ribs.

“Nivi, I got something. Part-time. We’ll manage.”

She kissed him hard, tears happy.

“We’ll use only what I earn. The five lakhs… emergency fund. We live on our own.”

She nodded, eyes shining.

They started their family like that — love, struggle, hope.

A knock at the door that evening.

Prem opened it.

A familiar face — the guy from the office who’d sat quietly during the interview.

“Prem? You left your ATM card at the office. Boss asked me to drop it. Followed the address you gave.”

Prem smiled, relieved. “Thanks, bro. Come in.”

He turned. “Nivi, water for my colleague.”

Then back to the man. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

The man smiled.

“Prakash.”

[Blackdick11]

brilliant. story seems intriguing.

[heygiwriter]

brilliant. story seems intriguing.

Thanks for the feedback

[tomdickharry2024]

Seems like an exciting story!

[Pvzro]

Superb great start keep writing 

Seems to be hot erotic story

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 4 - The Net Tightens

Prakash stepped into the tiny 1 BHK, his eyes immediately finding Nivi.

He was stunned.

She was standing near the window, folding a freshly washed saree, the late afternoon light catching her fair skin, making it glow softly. Her long hair fell loose over one shoulder, and the simple cotton saree hugged her curves as she moved.
Prakash felt it hit him like a punch.

He had always had this craze for other men's wives. The thrill of the forbidden, the chase, the conquest. He’d succeeded a few times — quick, dirty affairs with bored housewives he met through work or mutual friends. More often, he’d earned slaps, curses, threats. But he never stopped trying.

He hid it well. At the office, he was the reliable guy — helpful, funny, harmless. No one knew the real him.
That day at the interview, he’d overheard Prem telling the receptionist: “Madam, my wife is alone at home. She’s new to the city. Can I go in for the interview first?”

Prakash’s ears perked up.

Married. New in town. Wife alone.

Prakash is not altered.. But his ears still rings the word my wife is alone.. Had kept him intrigued..
20 mins later, he saw Prem coming out of the interview room. With smiles and Jumping in joy… in the process.  Prem’s ATM card slipped from his pocket. He didn't notice and moved out.. Prakash pocketed it quietly.
Opportunity.
He’d assumed a decent-looking guy like Prem would have a pretty wife. Easy to befriend, easier to try his luck. He could not wait to see how his wife would be.. He decided he would follow Prem and see how she is ..
He quickly went to HR team and said he feel nausea and took a leave immediately. .He knows he is just doing a mad man stuff by deep inside something alarmed him.. Lets give a try his dirty mind said.  He silently followed and waited for 10 mins to knock his door. 


Now standing in their place… he could not believe how his mind was sharply predicted this.. New employee… soon to be his friend.. And his wife … soon to be my fuck toy in my bed… his imaginations peaked

Nivi was more than pretty. Fair-skinned, soft, innocent eyes — the kind Indian men dreamed about. The kind that made you want to ruin her.

She’s my prize, he thought, staring as she brought water, pallu slipping just enough to show the curve of her waist.
He kept his face friendly, voice steady.

The room was bare — one stool, a mat on the floor, two suitcases open with clothes spilling out, a dustbin full of takeout packets. No stove, no furniture.

Something seemed odd.. The room suggested like a temporary space.. Looks like they ran away ? no friends or family….

Perfect.

“Newly wed?” he asked casually, sipping the water. “Room looks… temporary.”

Prem laughed awkwardly, and over water and small talk, the story spilled out — the love, the opposition, the stolen money, the disownment.

Prakash listened, nodding like a concerned friend.

“Don’t worry, brother. Love like that wins. Boss is good — Pratap sir will help. And me? Consider me your friend here. Anything you need.”

Nivi smiled gratefully. Prem relaxed, relieved to have an ally in this strange city. For prem he looked like a year elder.. He has no friends here.. The friend's brother who got them this room never called him back for any queries.. Prem was happy t o get a  person a friendly figure from his new working place..

Prakash left with a wave.

But in his mind: All the ways to get her alone. To get inside that saree.

The coming weeks, Prem was kept busy — Pratap loading him with tasks: bank runs, client drives, office errands.
Pratap and Prem’s bond grew steadily — from boss-employee to something closer, almost mentor-like. Pratap saw potential in the young man, the quiet determination. He wanted to help more — a better salary, a proper place — but held back, testing Prem’s loyalty and discipline first.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the bare room when Prem mentioned it once.

Pratap never saw Nivi then.. He just thought prem looked like his younger self… So he helped him generously but never showed it so cautious that prem should not abuse his generosity 

He handed Prem an envelope. “Buy a stove, basic utensils. Reduce a little from your pay each month — no interest.”
Prem’s eyes widened. “Sir… thank you.”

Pratap waved it off. “You’re earning it.”

Because of Pratap’s demands on Prem’s time, Prakash had no natural reason to visit often. Friendship hadn’t deepened yet.

Prakash could only watch from afar.

He’d “pass by” to Prems house on pretext of meeting a friend next street.. when Nivi hung clothes, eyes on her bending, saree riding up her calves.

But Nivi never entertained him in house when Prem is out.. 

But Prakash call him over mobile and would inform about his arrival and going back as he is absent here.. He update it so that he wont get doubt on him..

Prakash path to Nivi is temporarily stopped.. 

Prakash thought only if Prem gets into office works instead outside job along with boss he can deepen friendship and can get an access to prems house.. That will lead him between Nivi legs.

Meanwhile, Nivi — seeing the empty kitchen, the takeout packets — quietly took a part-time job at a nearby textile shop.
She hid it from Prem. Wanted to contribute, she knows him better, if Prem finds he will ask to stop her from doing so..
The supervisor, Rakesh, noticed her day one.

Fair skin, shy smile, curves that filled her saree perfectly.

He was all help. Too close when showing shelves. Eyes lingering.

But Nivi just smiled politely, even though she notices how Rakesh had been a pervet with womens around.. But she still kept working.

Prem suspected nothing.

A Month passed… One evening, Pratap called Prem in.

“Salary bump. 10,000 this month. 15,000 next. You’re proving yourself.”

Also from today you are promoted to Officer works.. You wont roam outside.. Our Manager Prakash suggested you can handle these works… 

Prem thanked Prakash.. 

Prakash said I consider you as my friend.. I know how your home looked.. Consider this as a gift from the new friend..
Prem came home early, excited.

But Nivi wasn’t there.

Panic. His over-thinking shooted up.. Did Nivi Father came here to take her back?? She dont even have a mobile?
He waited, heart racing.

She walked in later, bags in hand, sweating.

“Where were you?”

“Shopping,” she said, too quick.

He believed her.

A week later, Prakash and Prem grew closer after prem was promoted to officers job... 

at the tea breaks, chats.

Prem confessed: “On promotion day… I panicked when Nivi was out. Thought her family took her.”

Prakash nodded. 

Yes two solutions . 1. Lets get her a mobile.. i will buy one for her . 2 . A new place for you both to be safer...

“If you feel unsafe… My house is three streets away. Big place, spare room. Move in with me. 

Rent free till you settle. Safer for Nivi right? Its an apartment actually. Ladies will be around..”

Prem’s eyes lit up.

“Really? Thanks, man.”

He told Nivi that night.

“Prakash offered his place. Safer.”

Nivi hesitated, but nodded. “If you trust him…”

Prem did.

Nivi asked an important question.. Prakash married ?

Prem: Yes he is married but never seen their family .. 

Prem and Nivi doesn't know he is married but divorced.. The house, they are read to move in has deep threat.. Its a house that will have one women and two men sharing a space.. One who owns the women… other who gonna try to own the women..

The net tightened.

Quietly.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 5 – Close Calls


The move-in happened faster than Nivi liked.

Prakash’s apartment felt like a palace after the chawl room — two bedrooms, attached bathrooms, a proper kitchen, even a small balcony where sunlight poured in.

Prem was grateful. “Safer for you,” he said, kissing her forehead. “And Prakash is a good guy.”

Nivi nodded, uneasy but trusting Prem’s judgment.

Prakash played the perfect host — carried their bags, showed Aara the balcony, cooked a simple dinner.

But once they settled, he began.

Subtly.

The master bedroom door had an old-fashioned keyhole, large enough.

One night, Prem asleep early from exhaustion, Nivi in their room preparing for bed.

Prakash “passed by” in the hallway, silent on bare feet.

He knelt, eye pressed to the keyhole.

Nivi stood in the soft lamp light, back partially to the door, unaware.

She unpinned her pallu, let the saree slide down her body in a whisper of fabric, pooling at her feet. Fair skin glowing warm, smooth and flawless. She unhooked her blouse, buttons one by one, shrugging it off.

Bra next — simple cotton, but straining against her full breasts.

She reached behind, unclasped it. Breasts spilled free — round, heavy, nipples dark and erect in the cool air.
She bent to pick up her nightie, body stretching, backside curving perfectly in her petticoat.

Prakash’s breath fogged the metal. Hand pressed hard against his crotch.

Fuck. Look at her. So pure. So ready.

The next morning, opportunity.

“My bathroom pipe’s leaking bad,” he told Prem at breakfast, casual. “Mind if I use yours quick?”

Prem nodded. “Go ahead.”

Nivi was in the kitchen, making coffee.

Prakash slipped into their bathroom.

The laundry basket — her yesterday’s panty and bra on top, still faintly warm. He grabbed them, heart hammering.
Panty first — soft cotton, slight dampness at the crotch. He pressed it to his face, inhaled deep.
Her scent — clean soap mixed with womanly musk, faint sweat from the day.

Cock out instantly, hard and throbbing.

He wrapped the panty around his shaft, stroking slow at first, then faster.

Bra in the other hand, imagining her fair breasts in his mouth, nipples between his teeth. 

Innocent little thing. Thinks she’s safe. I’ll ruin that tight body. Pound her till she cries my name.

He came hard, biting his lip to stay silent, spilling thick into the fabric. Cleaned up fast, left them damp in the basket.
No one knew. 

Nivi continued her secret shifts at the textile shop.

Once Prem and Prakash left for office, she’d lock the door and go — back by evening, before they returned.

Rakesh was waiting every day.

Friendly. Too friendly.  Standing close when showing stock, breath on her neck.
Eyes on her blouse when she reached high. “Fair skin like yours, Nivi  — silk blouses would look stunning.”
She move away politely, stayed near the other women staff. Never alone.

Prakash grew impatient.

Prem’s new desk job meant more time together at office — tea breaks, lunch chats, friendship deepening.

But Prakash didn’t want to stop at stolen panties and stolen glances. Masturbating to her scent was good, but not enough. He wanted to taste her. Feel her fair skin under his hands. Hear her gasp his name.

He planned it carefully.

Headache. Half-day leave. Nivi will be home alone. I’ll ask her to apply balm on my forehead. When she leans close… hug her tight, push her on the bed, take her hard. She’ll resist at first, but she’ll give in.

He fixed the day.

That morning at office, he clutched his head. “Bad migraine, boss. Need half day.”

Pratap nodded, but his eyes lingered.

Prakash rushed home, heart racing.

Key in lock — door opened.

Empty.
“Nivi?”

Silence.

He checked every room. Balcony. Bathroom.

Gone.

Where the fuck is she?

Frustration boiled.

They hadn’t got her a mobile yet. If they had, he could’ve called, checked.

Next morning, opportunity.

At breakfast, Prem there, Prakash pulled out a new basic phone, wrapped simply.

“Nivi, this is for you.”

She looked surprised.

He smiled warmly. “Prem once told me he panicked when you were out late. Thought something happened. So I thought — gift from a friend. Now he can always reach you. Don’t make him worry.”

Nivi glanced at Prem.

Prem nodded, grateful. “Good idea. Thanks, man.”

She accepted, shy smile. “Thank you, Prakash.”

Prakash saved her number immediately.

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 5 Continuation:

Nivi glanced at Prem.


Prem nodded, grateful. “Good idea. Thanks, man.”

She accepted, shy smile. “Thank you, Prakash.”

Prakash saved her number immediately.

Now I can track her.

Following weeks.

Prakash tried early returns again.

Stomach ache. Headache. “Friend’s send-off.”

Rush home — door locked every time.

Where the fuck is she?

Doubt crept even into his mind.
Cheating already? Some secret lover?

She was too beautiful. Too fair. Men would notice.
One day, he took full leave.

“Family emergency — friend flying to UK.” 

Pratap frowned at the request.

Again? And Prem-Nivi staying at his place… Something felt off.

Prakash didn’t care.  He hid near the apartment, waited. Watched Nivi leave — simple saree, hair tied, bag on shoulder. Followed from a distance. She entered a nearby textile shop.

Working? Hiding a job from Prem?

He waited outside, fuming.

Pratap, back at office, noted the absence.

Frowned deeper.

Prem, who was an overthinker, trusted him completely. Never even questioned once why Prakash was taking so many leaves or coming back early. That evening at the shop.
Slow day. Other women staff left early — festival errand. 

Rakesh saw his chance.

Nivi stacking shelves in a quiet corner. 

He moved in close — too close.

“Need help?” Hand “accidentally” brushing her breast as he reached past.

She stiffened.

“That color… perfect for your fair skin,” he murmured, eyes hungry on her chest.

Then bolder — hand on her waist, pulling her against him.

“You know I’ve been patient—”

Slap. Hard, echoing. Nivi’s palm stung, eyes blazing with fury.

Rakesh staggered, shocked.

Before he recovered, the door burst open.

Prakash rushed in, face twisted.

He kicked Rakesh hard in the back — the supervisor crumpled to the floor.

Nivi turned, breathless, shocked.

“Prakash…?”

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 6 – Cracks and Consolations


The slap echoed through the empty shop, followed by Rakesh's grunt as Prakash's kick sent him sprawling.

Nivi backed away, hand still stinging, heart pounding.

Before Rakesh could get up, shouts from outside — customers, passersby hearing the noise.

“What happened?”
“Fight?”

People rushed in — two women from the next shop, a delivery boy, a customer.

They saw Rakesh on the floor, holding his back, Nivi shaken, Prakash standing over him.

The women grabbed Nivi. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, voice trembling. “He… he tried to…”

The customer pulled out his phone. “Calling cops.”

Rakesh stammered, “No, it’s a misunderstanding—”

But the security officer were called.

Within 20 minutes, two constables arrived, took statements.

Nivi explained — the pull, the slap.

Prakash chimed in: “I saw him grab her. Had to stop it.”

Rakesh denied, but the marks on his face and back told enough.

They hauled him to the station for questioning.

Nivi gave her details — including Prem’s number.

The cops called him.

At the office, Prem’s phone rang. Unknown number.

“Hello?”
“Mr. Prem? Your wife Nivisha is at a textile shop. Incident here. Come immediately.”

Prem’s world tilted.
He rushed out, mind racing.
Incident? What happened? Her father?

He arrived to find Nivi sitting on a bench outside, surrounded by the women, Prakash beside her like a protector.
“Nivi!”

She ran to him, tears fresh. He held her. “What happened?”
She confessed everything — the secret job, Rakesh’s advances, the pull, the slap.

Prem’s face darkened.

“Why lie? Why work behind my back?”

“I wanted to help… lessen your burden.”

The cops explained the rest — Prakash’s kick, Rakesh in custody.

Prem thanked Prakash stiffly. “You saved her.”

Prakash shrugged. “Right place, right time. Came to buy clothes — saw the whole thing.”

Prem nodded, but doubt flickered.

Buying clothes? Here? How did he know she works here or co-incidence?

The ride home was silent.

That night, the fallout began.

“You lied,” Prem said, pacing. “What if something happened? What if I wasn’t called?”

Nivi cried. “I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it.”

“Handle? Like with Aaravind?”

The words stung. Hurt she cried .. beat him on his shoulder .. cried louder

Fights erupted over days — cold shoulders, sharp words.

Prem lost focus at work — late, distracted.

Prakash noticed, stayed distant. Didn’t want suspicion growing.

Almost a month and 15 days passed.

The apartment tense.

Prem cold with Nivi — sleeping on the couch, short answers.

Nivi hurt, but silent.

At office, Pratap pulled Prem aside one day.

“Let’s meet a big client. Want to see how you handle it.”

In the car, Pratap asked: “How’s Nivi? All good? What was that security officer call last week? Thought you’d share with me.”

Prem apologized, spilled it — the job, Rakesh, Prakash’s save.

Pratap listened, nodded. “Good you’re watching out. But… be careful with Prakash.”

Prem frowned. “What?”

“Just… keep an eye.”

Meanwhile, at office. Prakash saw his chance.  Prem gone for the meet. Nivi alone at home.

He told the receptionist: “Important family function. Back tomorrow.”

His plan was simple.

Go home. Talk to Nivi. Befriend her more. She’s fighting with Prem — vulnerable.


Console her. Put an arm around.
Then take her.


He reached the apartment, key in hand.


Prakash reached the apartment, pulse quickening as he turned the key.
The living room was quiet, dim light from the balcony. Nivi sat on the sofa, eyes red from crying, saree slightly disheveled, fair skin flushed.
She looked up, surprised. “Prakash? What are you doing here?”

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 7 – Prakash unleashes his plan. Nivi trapped.


Prakash reached the apartment earlier than usual, pulse quickening as he turned the key.


The living room was dim, late afternoon light filtering through the curtains. Nivi sat on the sofa, looking exhausted — eyes red from improper sleep and crying for almost a month now, fair skin pale, saree slightly wrinkled from the day.

She looked up, startled. “Prakash? You’re home early.”

He smiled softly, closing the door behind him. 

“Yeah, early off. Prem’s out on that client meet with Pratap sir. 

Thought I’d check on you. You two still not talking?”

Nivi sighed, shoulders slumping. “It’s been weeks.”

He sat beside her — not too close at first.

 “If you trust me as a friend… tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”

She hesitated, then opened up. “It’s everything. The lie about the job. The fight. 

He brought up Aaravind again — that name hurts so much. Like I asked for it.”

Prakash puzzled who is Aravind.. 

Nivi hesitated then told.. Aravind was someone who was her friend but tried to abuse her friendship by misbehaving with her and prem saved her..

Prakash decided to use his manipulation skills..

Prakash nodded, voice gentle. “Aaravind was a monster. But Prem… he’s letting old fears control him. You’ve been so strong — adapted to this life, gave up everything for him. He should trust you, appreciate you. Not punish you for one mistake.”


Nivi’s eyes welled up. “I know. But he won’t let it go.”

Prakash shifted closer, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Cry if you need to.”

His fingers caressed her back slowly, tracing the curve through her blouse.

Nivi felt something off — the touch lingering too long.

She stood abruptly, moving to the arm of the sofa. “I… I’m okay. Thanks.”

Prakash hid his frustration, smiled. “You look tired. Let me make fresh juice — bought fruits yesterday. It’ll help.”

She nodded politely, but alarm bells rang. After Aaravind, after Rakesh — she trusted no man alone.

Prakash went to the kitchen, blended the juice — and crushed a sleeping pill into her glass when she wasn’t looking.

He brought it back. “Drink. You’ll feel better.”

She took it, pretended to sip. “Actually… sudden headache. I don’t want juice.”

Prakash pulled a pill from his pocket. “Here, headache tablet. Take it.”

She “swallowed” it, palmed it, spat it into her hand when he turned.

They talked for 15 minutes — Prakash probing gently. “Prem doesn’t see how lucky he is. A woman like you — fair, beautiful, devoted. You deserve to be cherished, not doubted.”

Nivi felt uneasy, head spinning from stress and skipped meals. “I’m… really tired. Going to lie down in the bedroom.”

She stood, but the world tilted — exhaustion, low blood sugar, something deeper she didn’t know yet.

Her legs buckled.

She fainted, collapsing back onto the sofa.

Prakash’s eyes lit up.

The pill worked fast.

He scooped her up in his arms — her body limp, soft, and warm against his chest, the weight of her curves pressing into him. Her fair skin glowed even in the dim light, smooth and flawless, saree slipping slightly from her shoulder as he lifted her, revealing the gentle swell of her breast at the blouse neckline.

Prakash’s heart hammered, breath shallow. Finally. Alone. Mine.

He carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Laid her gently on the bed, her long hair fanning out on the pillow, lips parted, chest rising and falling in slow, unconscious breaths.

He closed the bedroom door — click — the sound loud in the silence.

Stood there a moment, staring.

Then undressed slowly, deliberately — shirt unbuttoned one by one, tossed aside. Pants slid down, briefs last.

His cock sprang free, already hard, throbbing with need, tip glistening.

He climbed over her carefully, straddling her hips without putting weight, knees on either side.

Started slow. Teasing himself as much as her unconscious form.

Leaned down, kissed her forehead tenderly — inhaling her scent, clean soap and faint jasmine from her hair.

Then cheeks — soft, warm, fair skin like silk under his lips.

Neck next — open-mouthed kisses, tongue tracing the curve, tasting her pulse point. He lingered there, sucking lightly, imagining leaving a mark.

Hands moved to her pallu, easing it away inch by inch, fabric whispering as it fell aside.

Blouse revealed — thin cotton stretched tight over her full breasts.

He kissed the valley between them, tongue tracing the line where skin met fabric, breathing her in.

Hands cupped her breasts over the bra — white cotton, straining, nipples already faintly visible through the material.

He squeezed gently at first, feeling the softness, the weight.

Then harder — pressing, kneading, thumbs circling where her nipples hardened under the cloth.

So soft. So perfect. Made for this.

He pulled one breast free — tugging the bra cup down slowly, exposing her dark nipple to the air.

Kissed it immediately — lips closing around, sucking slow and deep, tongue flicking.

Pressed harder, mouth greedy now, teeth grazing lightly.

She moaned softly in her "sleep" — unconscious sound that drove him wild.

Down her stomach — kisses trailing, licks over her navel, hands sliding petticoat up her thighs, inch by inch, revealing smooth, fair skin.

Petticoat untied, slipped off completely.

Panty last — simple cotton, hugging her mound, faint outline of her lips beneath.

He kissed over it — nose pressed to the fabric, inhaling deep, her intimate scent filling him.

Tongue pressing against the cotton, tracing her slit through it, tasting the dampness seeping through.

Soon. So soon.

His cock throbbed against her thigh, leaking.

He was lost in it — teasing, savoring, believing the pill had her deep under.

The moment he hooked fingers into her panty waistband, ready to pull it down and finally enter her...

Prakash sensed something else?.... something off...

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 8 – The Awakening


Prakash felt something odd — a faint creak from the living room, like the front door opening.

He froze, cock still pressed against Nivi’s panty, tip teasing her entrance, fingers hooked in the waistband ready to pull it down.

The bedroom door swung wide open.

Prem stood there, briefcase in hand, face draining of color, eyes wide with raw shock.

Prakash nude, straddling her.

Nivi almost nude — bra cups tugged down, one breasts exposed, nipples wet from his mouth. Petticoat gone, panty halfway down her thighs, Prakash’s hand holding it.

Prem’s world shattered in an instant.

“Bastard!”

He dropped the briefcase, lunged forward, kicking Prakash hard in the ribs.

Prakash tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a thud, cock still hard, panic flooding his face.

“Sorry! Sorry! I got carried away!” he stammered, scrambling back, hands up.

Prem grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the wall, fist raised.

“What did you do to her?? 

Prakash gasped, voice high. 

“Nothing! I swear! She fainted — I carried her here to help. Clothes slipped while checking if she was breathing… I… I lost control. But I didn’t penetrate! I didn’t do anything irreversible!”

Prem looked at Nivi — unconscious on the bed, sheet half off, body exposed, fair skin marked with faint red from his kisses.

Rage and guilt crashed over him like a wave.

He threw the bedsheet over her fully, covering her protectively.


Prem’s voice shook with fury and betrayal. “Puzzled why I’m here early? I went with Pratap for the client meet… but he was suspicious about your sudden leave. He told me to check on Nivi. And I trusted you, Prakash. We trusted you. How could you do this to us?”


Prakash, still naked and trembling, backed against the wall. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Let’s just… pretend nothing happened. Please.”

Prem’s eyes blazed. “Pretend? You know what she’s been through before. The scars from Aaravind. You know the kind of turmoil that would destroy her if she found out.”



Prakash, still pinned against the wall, gasped for air. “I know… she told me about Aaravind…”

Prem’s fist connected hard with Prakash’s face — a sickening crack, blood from his lip.
“Then you should have protected her!” Prem roared, voice breaking. “Or at least walked away! Why the hell did you think you could do the same thing again?”

Prakash slumped, whimpering.

Prem released him, breathing heavy. “Anyway… thanks to you. If you hadn’t told the receptionist about your leave, Pratap wouldn’t have suspected. He alarmed me — told me to rush home and check on Nivi.”

He stepped back, eyes cold.

“That man has exprience… with men like you.”


Pratap arrived minutes later — Prem had called him in blind panic on the drive home, voice breaking: 
“Come now. Prakash… something’s wrong.”



Pratap took one look at Prakash cowering, Prem shaking with fury.

His face hardened.

In 10 minutes, 3–4 rough-looking men arrived — quietly, no questions.
Pratap nodded to them. “Handle this.”

To Prem, voice low: “Move from this place today. I’ll get you a new apartment by tomorrow. Stay at my house a few days till it’s ready. There are people — families — waiting for him. His past wrongs. I’ll hand him over.”

Prakash whimpered as the men grabbed him.

Pratap left with them.

Prem returned to the bedroom, door locked behind him.

Nivi still unconscious, sheet clutched around her.

He sat on the bed, tears falling freely now.

“I should have listened to the doubts. Pratap warned me. I trusted him. Let him near you. It’s my fault.”

He lay beside her, kissed her forehead gently, repeatedly.

“Wake up, Nivi… please. I’m sorry.”

Kissed again, whispering love, guilt choking him.

Nivi stirred slowly.  Eyes fluttered open.  Confusion first.

Then she looked down — sheet loose, bra askew, breasts exposed, panty half down, body feeling… used.
Panic surged.

“What… what happened? Why am I like this?”

Prem’s mind raced.

One Aaravind was enough. Rakesh last week. No more scars. No more nightmares for her.

He forced a playful smile, winked through tears. “You looked so sexy sleeping… I couldn’t resist tasting you in secret.”

Nivi stared, unsure, cheeks flushing.

Her body felt strange — nipples sore, wetness between thighs. 

But Prem?

He pulled her close gently. “You slept so deeply on the sofa. Fainted or something. What happened?”

She frowned, piecing it. “Prakash came… offered juice, tablet for headache. I didn’t take it, but I felt dizzy anyway.”

Prem nodded, hiding everything. “He called me — said you fainted, carried you to bed. Then emergency work, so I came early. Sent him off. We’re moving — better place. Pratap’s arranging.”

Nivi touched her breast absently — wet, sensitive.

Mocked lightly, voice shaky: “You show anger all week on my face… but lick my breasts in secret?”

He smiled, eyes wet. “Couldn’t stay mad forever.”

She laughed weakly, but doubt flickered — something felt off.

But she pushed it down. Prem. Her husband. Safe.

At the hospital later — checkup for the faint.

Doctor examined, asked routine questions.

“Skipped periods lately?” Nivi paused. Realized — weeks late.

Urine test.
30 minutes later.
“Congratulations. You’re pregnant. The faint is common early on — low blood pressure, exhaustion.”

The turmoil of the day — horror, guilt, rage — vanished in a moment.

Prem held her hand tight, tears now of pure joy.

Nivi smiled through shock, hand on her belly.

He resolute inside. No more trusting strangers. No more dependence.

He’d build his empire — like Nivi’s father once had.

Secure. Safe. For his family...
Never again would doubt — or men — threaten what was his.

[heygiwriter]

Seems like an exciting story!

Thanks New chapters added

[heygiwriter]

Superb great start keep writing 

Seems to be hot erotic story

Thanks new chapter added please continue to post feedback

[desihunter]

Excellent writing as always