Adultery Humiliated Hubby Akhil leading to cuckold version 2.0

[samanthasam]

Akhil fidgeted in the driver's seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as he glanced at his wife, Priya, in the passenger seat. She had always been beautiful, but lately, something had shifted. Her outfits were bolder, her attitude sharper, and it made his stomach twist with a mix of arousal and dread. Tonight, they were heading to a casual dinner with friends at a trendy rooftop bar downtown. Priya had insisted on driving separately—no, she wanted him to drive her, like he was her chauffeur.

"Eyes on the road, Akhil," Priya said with a smirk, crossing her legs. Her short black dress rode up her thighs, the hem barely covering her ass. No panties, he realized with a flush, remembering how she'd made him watch her get ready earlier, bending over to tease him without letting him touch. "You're staring again. Pathetic."

He swallowed hard, his cock twitching in his pants despite the humiliation. Priya had been like this for weeks—ever since she discovered his hidden browser history full of cuckold porn. Instead of anger, she'd turned it into her playground, dominating him in ways that left him hard and broken.

At the bar, the evening air was warm, the crowd buzzing with laughter. Priya stepped out first, her heels clicking on the pavement. She didn't wait for him; she sauntered ahead, her dress clinging to her curves, the low neckline showing off her full breasts. Heads turned as she walked, men—and some women—ogling her openly. Akhil trailed behind, feeling small, his face burning.

Their friends, Raj and his girlfriend Lena, were already at a high-top table overlooking the city lights. Priya slid into a stool, her dress hiking up further, exposing the smooth skin of her inner thighs. She leaned forward to hug Lena, her cleavage on full display. "Darling, you look amazing," Lena said, but her eyes flicked to Priya's outfit with a raised brow.

Akhil sat quietly, ordering a beer he didn't really want. Priya ordered a cocktail, then turned to Raj with a playful grin. "So, Raj, still single? Or are you playing the field?" Her foot brushed Akhil's leg under the table—not affectionately, but to push his knees apart, making him spread his legs like an obedient dog.

As the conversation flowed, Priya grew bolder. She laughed loudly at Raj's jokes, touching his arm, her body angled toward him. Akhil watched, his heart pounding, as she 'accidentally' dropped her napkin and bent to pick it up, giving everyone a flash of her bare pussy. Raj's eyes widened, but he played it cool. Lena giggled, whispering something to Priya.

"Akhil, be a good boy and fetch me another drink," Priya said suddenly, her voice sweet but commanding. He hesitated, and she added, "Now. Or I'll tell everyone why you're so eager to please." His cheeks flamed as he stood, heading to the bar. From across the room, he saw Priya lean in close to Raj, her hand on his thigh, whispering something that made him chuckle.

When Akhil returned with the drink, Priya took it without thanks, then slipped her hand under the table. He felt her fingers graze his crotch, squeezing his semi-hard cock through his pants. "Look at you, getting excited while I flirt," she murmured, just loud enough for Raj to hear. "Bet you'd love to watch me suck Raj's cock right here, wouldn't you?"

Akhil's breath hitched, his dick throbbing painfully against her grip. The group chatted on, oblivious or pretending to be, but the humiliation burned through him, mixing with unwanted lust. Priya released him, turning back to the conversation, leaving him aching and exposed in every way.

As the night wore on, Priya suggested dancing. She pulled Raj onto the floor first, grinding her ass against his crotch to the pulsing music, her dress riding up dangerously. Akhil sat alone, watching his wife tease another man, her exhibitionist side on full display. She caught his eye once, blowing a mocking kiss, promising more torment to come.

[samanthasam]

This story is inspired from Humiliated Hubby Akhil leading to cuckold

By fancyguyfancy

[samanthasam]

Priya's body moved like liquid fire against Raj's, her hips rolling in time with the bass-thumping beat. She pressed her ass back into his groin, feeling the growing hardness there, and glanced over her shoulder with a wicked smile. Raj's hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of her dress. Akhil watched from the table, his beer forgotten, a knot of jealousy and excitement twisting in his gut. His cock strained against his zipper, betraying him as he imagined what might happen next.

Lena joined them on the dance floor after a minute, laughing as she sandwiched Priya between her and Raj. The three of them swayed together, Priya's dress inching higher with each grind, the hem teasing the curve of her cheeks. A few patrons nearby whistled, but Priya didn't care—she thrived on the attention, her exhibitionist streak fueling the heat building between her thighs. She caught Akhil's eye again, her lips parting in a silent taunt: Watch me.

After a few songs, Priya sauntered back to the table, her skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Raj followed, adjusting his pants discreetly, while Lena trailed behind, fanning herself. 'That was fun,' Priya purred, sliding onto Akhil's lap instead of her own stool. She ground down subtly, her bare pussy lips brushing his thigh through the thin dress. 'You should've joined us, hubby. Or are you too busy being my little voyeur?'

Akhil's face burned, but he didn't push her off. 'Priya, please,' he muttered, his voice low. Raj chuckled, clapping Akhil on the shoulder a bit too hard. 'She's a firecracker, man. You lucky guy.' Lena smirked, sipping her drink, clearly in on the game.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but Priya kept the edge sharp. She fed Akhil a sip of her cocktail from her fingers, making him lick them clean while Raj watched. 'Good boy,' she whispered, then turned to Raj. 'Tell me, does Lena let you get away with that premature nonsense, or do you last longer than my husband?'

Raj's eyes widened, but he played along with a grin. 'Hey, no complaints here.' Akhil squirmed under Priya, his erection throbbing painfully as humiliation washed over him. She shifted, pressing her wetness against his leg, marking him with her arousal. 'See? Even talking about it gets you hard. Pathetic, but cute.'

As the bar started to thin out, Priya suggested heading home. 'Akhil, drive us back. Raj, Lena—want to come for a nightcap? Our place isn't far.' They agreed eagerly, and soon Akhil was behind the wheel again, Priya in the passenger seat with Raj and Lena in the back. The air was thick with tension; Priya's hand rested high on Akhil's thigh, squeezing whenever he glanced in the rearview mirror at Raj's hand casually on Lena's knee.

At home, their modest apartment felt smaller with guests. Priya kicked off her heels and poured drinks in the living room, her dress still scandalously short. 'Make yourselves comfortable,' she said, dimming the lights. Akhil hovered awkwardly, fetching glasses like a servant. As they settled on the couch, Priya sat between Raj and Lena, her legs dbangd over Raj's lap. 'Akhil, why don't you sit on the floor? It's cozier down there.'

He obeyed, kneeling at her feet, his heart racing. Priya's toes traced his chest, then lower, nudging his crotch. 'Look at him, so eager to please.' She leaned into Raj, her hand sliding up his shirt. Lena watched with amusement, sipping her wine. The room grew warmer, charged with unspoken possibilities.

Priya's dominance escalated quickly. She pulled Raj into a deep kiss right there, her tongue exploring his mouth while Akhil watched inches away. Raj's hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts through the dress, thumbs circling her hardening nipples. Priya broke the kiss with a gasp, turning to Akhil. 'Unzip me. Now.'

Trembling, Akhil reached up and tugged the zipper down her back. The dress pooled at her waist, exposing her naked torso—full breasts bouncing free, nipples erect in the cool air. Raj groaned appreciatively, leaning in to suck one into his mouth. Priya moaned, arching into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. 'That's it, suck my tits like my husband never does.'

Akhil's cock leaked pre-cum into his underwear, the sight of another man devouring his wife's breasts driving him wild. Lena scooted closer, her hand slipping under Priya's dress to finger her soaked pussy. 'God, you're dripping,' Lena murmured. Priya spread her legs wider, the dress hiking up to reveal everything. 'Akhil, pull it off. Let them see how wet I get for real men.'

He slid the dress away, leaving Priya nude on the couch. Raj stripped off his shirt, then his pants, his thick cock springing free—bigger than Akhil's, veined and ready. Priya wrapped her hand around it, stroking slowly. 'Feel this? This is what a real dick feels like.' She guided Akhil's hand to it, forcing him to grip the shaft. 'Jerk him off for me, cuck.'

Humiliation burned through Akhil as he pumped Raj's cock, feeling it pulse under his fingers. Priya watched, her free hand rubbing her clit while Lena kissed her neck. 'Good boy. Now watch him fuck me.' Raj positioned Priya on all fours, her ass high, pussy glistening. He rubbed his cockhead along her slit, then thrust in deep, stretching her with one stroke.

Priya cried out, pushing back to take every inch. 'Fuck, yes—harder than you ever could, Akhil!' Raj pounded into her, balls slapping her thighs, his hands gripping her hips. Akhil knelt there, stroking his own smaller cock through his pants as ordered, tears of shame mixing with lust. Lena straddled Priya's face, grinding her pussy against her mouth. Priya licked eagerly, tongue delving into Lena's folds, sucking her clit.

The room filled with wet slaps, moans, and Priya's muffled commands. Raj fucked her relentlessly, pulling her hair, spanking her ass red. 'Take it, slut,' he growled. Priya came first, shuddering around his cock, juices squirting onto the couch. Raj followed, pulling out to cum across her back, thick ropes painting her skin.

Panting, Priya turned to Akhil. 'Clean me up.' He leaned in, licking Raj's cum from her body, tasting the salty bitterness while his wife laughed. Lena came on Priya's tongue moments later, flooding her mouth. Exhausted, the group collapsed, but Priya's eyes gleamed with more plans. 'This is just the start, hubby. Tomorrow, meet Sundar—our cleaning boy. He'll love seeing you like this.'

The next morning, Akhil woke to the sound of voices in the kitchen. Priya was there, dressed in a low-hip saree that barely clung to her curves, the fabric dbangd scandalously low to expose her navel and the smooth dip of her hips. Her blouse was tiny, only three buttons holding it closed, her deep cleavage spilling out, midriff fully bare. She'd started this at home weeks ago—first the low saree, then the skimpy tops after their unsatisfying nights in bed, where his premature finish left her wanting.

Sundar, the 22-year-old cleaner, was chopping vegetables on the floor beside her. Priya sat cross-legged, her saree riding up to show her thighs, pallu tucked loosely between her breasts, letting them jiggle with each movement. 'It's so hot in here,' she complained, fanning herself and hiking the saree higher, revealing more skin. Sundar stared openly, his young eyes hungry, but he kept working, stealing glances at her exposed navel and the shadow between her legs.

Akhil peeked from the hallway, too ashamed to enter. Priya knew he was there; she always did. 'Sundar, hand me that knife,' she said, leaning forward so her blouse gaped, nipples nearly peeking out. He did, his hand brushing hers, lingering. Akhil's stomach churned—his wife, provocative only in front of the servants now, dominating him with every tease.

'Archana—wait, Priya,' Akhil whispered to himself, but the name slip didn't matter. She called out, 'Akhil, come help! Or are you hiding because you can't satisfy anyone?' He stepped in, face red, as Sundar smirked. Priya stood, saree slipping lower, and pulled Akhil close. 'Tell Sundar how you cum too quick, darling. Maybe he'll show you how a real man does it.'

Sundar chuckled, emboldened. Priya pressed against Akhil, her hand cupping his crotch. 'See? Soft already. Pathetic.' She turned to Sundar, winking. 'Want to watch me fix that?' The humiliation deepened, Akhil's world shrinking to her commands, her body on display for all but him to touch.

[Ayush01111]

Paka aisi ghatiya soch hi ho sakti hai realty me to admi che jaisa bhi ho goli maar de biwi or uske yar ko

[DuraiBabu]

Thank you for taking up this story. This one's like a long ride from 2023!! While the humiliation from Priya is top-notch, don't rush too fast, it can make Priya look cheap - Just a suggestion. But keep the heat on...

[samanthasam]

Sundar's eyes locked onto Priya's hand as it squeezed Akhil's crotch through his pants, her fingers outlining the limp bulge there. She smirked, releasing him with a dismissive pat, then turned fully toward the young cleaner. His knife paused mid-chop, vegetables forgotten on the cutting board. Priya stepped closer to him, her saree whispering against her legs, the low dbang exposing the full curve of her hips and the tantalizing V of her pubic bone just above the fabric.

'Tell me, Sundar,' she said, her voice husky and commanding, 'have you ever seen a woman like me up close? Or do you just sneak peeks when you think I'm not looking?' She reached out, trailing her nails down his arm, feeling the muscles tense under his shirt. Sundar swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to her heaving cleavage, where the blouse strained against her breasts, one button threatening to pop.

Akhil stood frozen in the doorway, his face flushing deeper as he watched his wife flirt so brazenly with their hired help. His cock twitched involuntarily, a mix of shame and unwanted arousal stirring in his groin. Priya glanced back at him, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight. 'Don't just stand there, Akhil. Fetch us some water. And hurry—Sundar's getting thirsty.'

He shuffled to the sink, filling glasses with trembling hands, the clink of ice echoing in the tense silence. When he returned, Priya took a glass from him without thanks, then pressed the other into Sundar's palm, her fingers lingering on his. 'Drink up,' she purred, watching his Adam's apple bob as he gulped it down. Water dribbled from the corner of his mouth, and she wiped it away with her thumb, sucking the droplet clean right in front of Akhil.

Emboldened, Sundar set the glass aside and straightened, his pants tenting obviously now. Priya noticed, her hand drifting to brush over the front of his trousers. 'Oh, what's this? Already hard for your memsaab? Unlike my useless husband.' She squeezed gently, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Sundar. Akhil's knees weakened; he set his own glass down before it spilled, his erection now half-formed, pressing uncomfortably against his fly.

Priya tugged Sundar to his feet, pulling him toward the center of the kitchen. Her saree pallu slipped from her shoulder, baring one breast entirely—the dark nipple stiff and begging for attention. She didn't bother fixing it, instead guiding Sundar's hand to cup the exposed flesh. 'Feel how full they are? Go on, pinch it.' Sundar obeyed, rolling the nipple between his fingers, making Priya moan softly. She arched into his touch, her free hand yanking open the remaining buttons of her blouse until both breasts spilled out, jiggling freely.

Akhil's breath came in short gasps, his hand itching to touch himself but held back by her unspoken command. 'Priya... the neighbors might hear,' he whispered, but she laughed, low and throaty.

'Let them. Maybe they'll join in.' She pushed Sundar against the counter, dropping to her knees in a fluid motion. The saree pooled around her, but she hiked it up, revealing her bare pussy, already slick and swollen. Sundar's hands fumbled with his belt, but Priya batted them away, unzipping him herself. His cock sprang out—thick, uncut, and veined, curving upward with youthful vigor. She wrapped her lips around the head, sucking hard, her tongue swirling over the slit to taste his pre-cum.

Sundar groaned, his hips bucking forward as Priya took him deeper, her mouth stretching around his girth. She bobbed her head, slurping noisily, saliva dripping down his shaft to his balls. One hand pumped the base while the other slipped between her thighs, fingers plunging into her wet folds. Akhil watched, transfixed, his own cock now fully hard and leaking, but he didn't dare touch it. The humiliation burned hot—his wife on her knees for the cleaner, treating him like a king while Akhil played servant.

Priya pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to Sundar's throbbing dick. 'Look at this, Akhil. See how he throbs? Not like your little thing that wilts after two pumps.' She stroked Sundar faster, her fist gliding smoothly. 'Tell him, Sundar—tell my husband how good my mouth feels.'

'Tight... so fucking tight, memsaab,' Sundar panted, his eyes half-lidded. Priya grinned up at him, then engulfed him again, deepthroating until her nose pressed against his pubic hair. She gagged slightly but held, humming around his length to vibrate against him. Sundar's hands tangled in her hair, guiding her rhythm, fucking her face with increasing confidence.

Akhil's resolve cracked; he palmed his erection through his pants, rubbing desperately. Priya noticed, pulling off once more. 'No. Hands off. You watch and learn.' She stood, shoving her saree down her legs in one swift motion, kicking it aside to stand nude before them. Her body gleamed in the morning light filtering through the window—curves lush, skin flushed, pussy lips parted and glistening.

'Turn around, Sundar,' she ordered. He did, bracing against the counter. Priya spit on her hand, slicking his cock, then bent over the kitchen table, ass presented high. 'Fuck me. Hard. Show Akhil what he's missing.' Sundar didn't hesitate; he gripped her hips and slammed in, burying himself to the hilt in her soaked cunt. Priya yelped, then moaned, pushing back to meet his thrusts.

The table rocked with each pound, dishes rattling. Sundar's balls slapped against her clit, the wet squelch of their joining filling the room. Priya's breasts swayed pendulously, nipples scbanging the wood surface. 'Yes—deeper! Fuck me like he can't!' she cried, her voice echoing off the tiles. Akhil sank to the floor, eyes glued to the scene, his cock straining painfully as he resisted the urge to stroke.

Sundar reached around, rubbing Priya's clit in rough circles, making her walls clench around him. She came with a shuddering scream, juices gushing down her thighs, soaking the floor. But Sundar kept going, grunting as he chased his release. 'Where do you want it, memsaab?' he asked, voice strained.

'Inside—fill my pussy!' Priya demanded. He thrust erratically, then buried deep, cock pulsing as he unloaded, hot spurts flooding her depths. Priya ground against him, milking every drop, her body quivering.

When Sundar pulled out, cum leaked from her stretched hole, dripping onto the table. Priya straightened, turning to Akhil with a satisfied smirk. 'Your turn to clean, cuck. Lick it all up—from me and the table.' Akhil crawled forward on all fours, humiliated tears pricking his eyes, but his tongue darted out eagerly. He lapped at the sticky mess on the wood first, tasting the mingled fluids, then buried his face between Priya's thighs.

She spread her legs wider, fingers in his hair, forcing him deeper. 'Suck it out. Taste a real man's load.' Sundar watched, zipping up with a grin, as Akhil tongued her cum-filled pussy, swallowing the salty essence while his own cock throbbed untouched.

Priya came again on his mouth, grinding her clit against his nose. 'Good boy. Now, Sundar—come back tomorrow. And bring your friend. Akhil needs more lessons.' As Sundar nodded and left, Priya pulled Akhil up by his collar, kissing him roughly, sharing the flavor. 'This is our new life, darling. Get used to it—or watch from the corner.'

Later that afternoon, Priya lounged on the balcony in a sheer negligee that left nothing to the imagination—her nipples visible through the lace, the hem barely covering her ass. The apartment complex bustled below, neighbors milling about in the courtyard. She sipped chai, legs crossed but parting teasingly whenever someone glanced up. Akhil hovered inside, peeking through the curtains, his stomach twisting at the thought of exposure.

'Come out here,' she called, her voice carrying. Reluctantly, he stepped onto the balcony, the sun warm on his skin. Priya patted her lap. 'Sit. Like a good pet.' He perched awkwardly, her arms wrapping around him possessively. But instead of comfort, she hiked her negligee, exposing her bare pussy to the open air, and guided his hand between her legs.

'Finger me. Right here, where everyone can see.' Akhil's fingers slid into her wetness, pumping slowly as she moaned louder than necessary. A group of men below paused, looking up, their eyes widening at the sight. Priya waved cheekily, arching into Akhil's touch. 'Faster. Make me squirt for them.'

He obeyed, curling his fingers to hit her G-spot, thumb on her clit. Her juices flowed, and soon she gushed, spraying over the railing and down to the courtyard. The men below cheered, one even snapping a photo. Akhil's face burned with shame, but his cock hardened against her thigh. Priya laughed, unzipping him and stroking his length exposed to the world.

'Cum for them too, hubby. Show how quick you are.' It took only seconds—her expert hand milking him until ropes of cum shot out, splattering the balcony floor. The audience below whistled, and Priya blew them kisses. 'See? Pathetic. But entertaining.'

As evening fell, Priya dressed for another outing—a tight mini-dress that hugged her curves, no bra or panties, the neckline plunging to her navel. 'We're going to the market,' she announced. 'And you're carrying the bags like the beta male you are.' At the bustling bazaar, she walked ahead, hips swaying, drawing stares from vendors and shoppers alike. She bent over fruit stalls, flashing her ass, and haggled with flirtatious winks.

Akhil trailed behind, arms laden with purchases, his eyes downcast as men ogled his wife. At a clothing stall, Priya tried on a sheer sari right there in the open, the vendor's son helping dbang it, his hands lingering on her waist. 'What do you think, Akhil? Should I buy it to tease more boys?' He nodded mutely, arousal warring with jealousy.

Back home, she modeled it for him, the fabric translucent against her skin. 'Kneel and eat me out while I text Raj.' Akhil dropped to his knees, tongue delving into her folds as she typed, laughing at replies. 'He wants to bring friends next time. A gang bang—think you can handle watching that?'

The night ended with Priya riding Akhil's face to orgasm, denying him release. 'Earn it tomorrow. Maybe if Sundar and his friend perform well, I'll let you fuck my ass—after they do.' Akhil lay spent and frustrated, knowing her dominance had only just begun, her exhibitionist games set to pull him deeper into humiliation's embrace.

[samanthasam]

The next morning dawned with a soft glow filtering through the curtains, casting warm shadows across the bedroom. Akhil stirred first, his body heavy with the weight of unfulfilled desire from the night before. Priya lay beside him, her naked form sprawled languidly, one leg thrown over the sheets, exposing the smooth expanse of her thigh and the faint marks from yesterday's indulgences. He watched her chest rise and fall, nipples pebbled in the cool air, and felt that familiar ache in his groin—hard but ignored, just as she'd commanded.

She woke slowly, stretching like a cat, her arms arching overhead to thrust her breasts upward. A lazy smile curved her lips as she caught him staring. 'Morning, pet,' she murmured, her voice still husky from sleep. Instead of rolling toward him, she turned away, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. 'Check the kitchen. Make sure Sundar arrives on time today. And remember—bring his friend, as I said.'

Akhil nodded, slipping out of bed with a quiet 'Yes, Priya,' his erection bobbing as he dressed in loose pants and a shirt, hoping to hide his arousal. Downstairs, he busied himself with breakfast preparations, the memory of yesterday's kitchen scene replaying in his mind—the way her body had trembled under Sundar's thrusts, the salty flood he'd lapped from her afterward. His hands shook as he sliced fruit, cock straining against the fabric.

The doorbell rang promptly at eight, and Akhil opened it to find Sundar standing there, a shy grin on his face, accompanied by a lanky young man about the same age—Ravi, Sundar introduced him, his eyes darting curiously around the foyer. Both wore simple uniforms, but there was a new confidence in Sundar's posture, emboldened by Priya's favors. 'Memsaab called?' Sundar asked, though it was more statement than question.

'Yes, come in,' Akhil replied, voice tight, leading them to the kitchen. He poured tea for them, his back turned to avoid their knowing glances. Footsteps descended the stairs, and Priya appeared, wrapped only in a thin silk robe that clung to her curves, the belt loosely tied so it gaped open at the front, revealing glimpses of her cleavage and the shadow between her legs. Her hair tumbled wild over her shoulders, and she moved with deliberate grace, hips swaying as she entered the room.

'Morning, boys,' she greeted, her tone warm but laced with authority. She leaned against the counter near Sundar, the robe parting further to expose one thigh up to her hip. Ravi's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing as he sipped his tea too quickly, nearly choking. Sundar, more composed, met her gaze steadily, a spark of anticipation in his expression.

Priya took a cup from Akhil without a word, sipping slowly while her free hand rested on Sundar's shoulder, fingers tracing lazy circles on his neck. 'You did well yesterday,' she said softly, just loud enough for Akhil and Ravi to hear. 'And you brought a friend, as asked. Good.' She turned her attention to Ravi, stepping closer until her robe brushed his arm. 'What's your name again? Ravi? Have you worked with Sundar long?'

'Y-yes, memsaab,' Ravi stammered, his gaze flickering to the open vee of her robe, where her breasts threatened to spill free. Priya noticed, arching her back slightly to accentuate the swell, but she didn't push further—not yet. Instead, she handed him a cloth. 'Start on the living room windows. Make them spotless. Sundar, you handle the floors here.'

As they moved to their tasks, Priya settled at the kitchen table, crossing her legs so the robe rode up, baring her inner thigh. Akhil stood nearby, wiping counters unnecessarily, his eyes drawn to her exposed skin. She caught his look and patted the chair beside her. 'Sit. Watch them work.' He obeyed, the wooden seat cool against his heated body.

Sundar began mopping, his movements efficient but slowed whenever he passed near Priya, stealing glances at her legs. Ravi, in the adjacent living room, polished the glass with vigor, but his focus wavered, turning back toward the kitchen doorway. Priya uncrossed and recrossed her legs slowly, the motion parting the robe just enough to flash the trimmed patch above her pussy before it settled again. Akhil's breath hitched; he shifted in his seat, cock throbbing painfully.

'They're strong, aren't they?' Priya whispered to him, her hand sliding onto his thigh under the table, nails digging in lightly. 'Look at Sundar's arms—veins popping as he scrubs. And Ravi's back, all lean muscle.' Her fingers crept higher, brushing the bulge in his pants, but she stopped short of stroking, teasing the edge of torment. Akhil nodded, whispering, 'Yes... they are.' The humiliation simmered low, building like a slow fire.

She leaned back, letting the robe slip open at the top, one nipple peeking out briefly before she adjusted it with a casual tug—almost covering, but not quite. Sundar paused his mopping, eyes locked on the motion, his mop handle gripped tighter. Priya smiled at him. 'Something wrong? Keep going— I like watching you sweat.' He resumed, but his rhythm faltered, sweat beading on his forehead despite the mild morning.

Minutes stretched into a tense half-hour, the only sounds the slosh of water, the squeak of cloth on glass, and Priya's occasional hum of approval. She directed them verbally—'Higher on that pane, Ravi,' or 'Get into the corners, Sundar'—her voice carrying a sultry undertone that made Akhil's skin prickle. Finally, she stood, robe swaying, and sauntered into the living room. 'Let me see your progress.'

Ravi stepped back as she approached the window, pressing close to inspect it, her body inches from his. The robe gaped again, this time fully exposing the side of one breast, the curve brushing his arm accidentally—or not. Ravi froze, his polishing rag dangling forgotten. Priya turned to him, her face inches from his. 'Nervous? First time in a house like this?' She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart race beneath the shirt. 'Relax. I don't bite... unless asked.'

Akhil watched from the kitchen doorway, fists clenched at his sides, arousal twisting with jealousy as Ravi's hand twitched, as if unsure whether to touch her. Priya stepped back, letting the moment hang, then returned to the kitchen. 'They're almost done. Akhil, prepare lunch—something light. The boys will eat with us.'

As Akhil chopped vegetables, Priya lounged against the counter, chatting idly with Sundar about his village, her questions probing gently—did he have a girlfriend? What did he do for fun? Each answer drew her closer, her robe loosening with every lean or gesture. By the time plates were set, the air hummed with unspoken tension, Ravi stealing glances while Sundar grew bolder, his eyes tracing her form openly.

They ate at the table, Priya at the head, the young men on one side, Akhil opposite. She served them first, her fingers brushing theirs as she passed dishes, lingering on Sundar's knee under the table once, making him jolt. Conversation flowed around work and weather, but Priya steered it toward the personal—'Akhil here is so helpful around the house,' she said with a wink, her foot sliding up Ravi's calf, hidden by the tablecloth. He nearly dropped his fork, face reddening.

Akhil pushed food around his plate, appetite lost to the knot in his stomach. Priya's dominance wove through every interaction, subtle commands wrapped in smiles, building the heat without eruption. After the meal, she dismissed them to finish chores, but not before pressing a cool glass of water into Ravi's hand, her thumb stroking his wrist. 'Stay hydrated. It's getting warm.'

Alone with Akhil in the kitchen, she finally turned to him, backing him against the sink. 'Enjoying the show?' Her hand cupped his balls through his pants, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. 'They're fresh, eager. Unlike you.' She unzipped him slowly, exposing his leaking cock to the air, but instead of relief, she wrapped her fingers around the base, holding firm without stroking. 'Clean up lunch. I'll supervise them. Behave, and maybe later...'

She left him there, hard and denied, the promise dangling like a threat. The day unfolded in languid increments—Priya directing chores from the couch, robe riding up as she reclined, legs parted just so; Sundar vacuuming near her feet, close enough to smell her scent; Ravi dusting shelves, forced to reach past her when she 'accidentally' blocked his path, her breast grazing his side. Each brush, each glance layered the humiliation, Akhil trailing like a shadow, fetching tools or drinks, his erection a constant, aching reminder.

By midday, the house gleamed, but the tension thickened. Priya called a break, inviting them to the veranda for cold drinks. She shed the robe entirely in the privacy of the hallway—though the open windows risked glimpses from neighbors—emerging in a skimpy bikini top and shorts that barely contained her ass. 'Too hot for layers,' she explained with a shrug, handing out glasses. The young men sat on the steps, eyes glued to her barely covered body as she leaned on the railing, chatting casually, her posture arching to display every curve.

Akhil served from behind, humiliated by the way they ignored him, focused solely on her. Priya's laughter rang out, light but charged, as she teased Sundar about his village stories, her hand resting on his thigh briefly during a punchline. Ravi shifted uncomfortably, his shorts tenting. She noticed, but only smiled, letting the moment simmer. 'Back to work soon, boys. But first—tell me, what do you think of the view from here?' Her eyes flicked to the courtyard below, where a few residents passed, oblivious for now.

The heat built inexorably, Priya's control absolute, drawing out the anticipation until Akhil's every nerve sang with frustrated need. She was no hurried temptress; she was the architect of their slow unraveling, savoring each thread of dominance.