Adultery Conservative Married woman and cuck husband(updated 22-03-26)

[Suresh@123]

Please update this story also bro

Updating bro thank you... Writing that story will soon post...

[Michel scottt]

Can we expect today ??

[Suresh@123]

Can we expect today ??

Yes sure bro..

[Suresh@123]

curtains of the house kitchen, casting a warm, go. His cock also got rock Hard.....

[Michel scottt]

Bro why stopped this story ??

[Suresh@123]

Bro why stopped this story ??

Yesterday I updated bro.. But lines Allingment is not equalling... It's when writing time is equal when posting time it is changing zug zag... Do I deleted yesterday update full... Again tried but same like coming I requested అడ్మిన్... Hope today it will solve..

[girrich9486]

Pls update writer

[girrich9486]

Pls update 

No respond

[gvsubu1995]

Pls update

[gvsubu1995]

Closed incomplete story? Why the writer left this story without end?

[mahamatherchod]

gone.................

[exbiixossip2]

next update bro....

[Suresh@123]

Very extremely sorry.. I bust due to some reasons. Sure I will update story tomorrow...

[Suresh@123]

next update bro....

Thank you. Tomorrow

[Suresh@123]

gone.................

Bro tomorrow I will update.

[Suresh@123]

The house kitchen smelled of fresh chai, cardamom, and the faint musk of last night's secrets still clinging to skin. Sunlight sliced through the tall windows, painting golden stripes across the wooden table where breakfast lay half-eaten: parathas gone cold, mango pickle glistening, curd in clay bowls.
Mrunal sat opposite Harish, sari pallu dbangd loosely, the deep red blouse doing nothing to hide the faint finger-bruises blooming along her collarbone—marks Harish himself had left two nights earlier when he'd pinned her against the neem tree. She stirred her tea slowly, eyes flicking between her sister and husband.
Priya moved carefully. Every step reminded her of the delicious ache between her thighs, the stretch that still echoed in her core. She wore a simple cotton nightie again, thin enough that the morning light turned it almost transparent when she passed the window. Her breasts swayed freely beneath, nipples dark and prominent against the fabric. She smiled at no one in particular, dreamy, as though still floating in the afterglow.
Harish's cock twitched under the table the moment she bent to pour more chai. The sight of her—marked, limping slightly, glowing—made his pulse thud low and heavy.
Mrunal noticed.
She set her spoon down with deliberate calm.
"Priya," she said softly, voice like warm honey, "you look... different this morning."
Priya laughed, a little breathless. "Must be the village air. Or the sleep." She touched the back of her neck self-consciously. "I feel loose. Like everything's... opened up."
Harish nearly choked on his chai.
Mrunal's gaze slid to him, dark and knowing. Then back to Priya.
"Harish was restless last night," Mrunal continued, casual as gossip. "Kept getting up. I thought I heard footsteps in the corridor too. Around two."
Priya tilted her head. "I slept like the dead. Didn't hear a thing."
"Of course you didn't," Mrunal murmured. She rose, graceful, and moved behind Priya's chair. Her fingers brushed the other woman's shoulder—light, almost sisterly—then drifted lower, tracing the faint red crescent just above the neckline where Vivek's teeth had grazed.
Priya shivered.
Harish's hand tightened on his cup.
Mrunal leaned down, lips close to Priya's ear. "These marks... they look fresh. Did Harish get rougher than usual?"
Priya flushed scarlet. "I... maybe. It was dark. Intense."
Mrunal hummed. Her hand slid forward, cupping one breast through the nightie—openly, shamelessly—thumb circling the nipple until it pebbled hard.
Priya gasped but didn't pull away.
Harish's breathing turned ragged.

[Suresh@123]

The next day morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of the farmhouse bedroom, casting golden patterns on the wooden floor. Offices had claimed the others—Priya and Vivek had left early, murmuring about meetings, leaving the house hushed and heavy with last night’s secrets. Harish sat in the living room, newspaper open but unread, his mind replaying the way Vivek had painted Priya’s ass with cum. His cock twitched at the memory.
Mrunal’s shower had ended minutes ago. He heard the soft pad of wet feet, the rustle of fabric. Then a sharp, high-pitched scream tore through the silence.
“Ohhhhhh! Cockroach! Harish bhaiya! Cockroach in my saree!”
Harish dropped the paper and bolted toward her bedroom. The door was ajar. He pushed it open to find Mrunal in frantic panic—only in a skimpy red lace bra that barely contained her full, heavy breasts and matching red thong panties that rode high on her wide hips, the thin string disappearing between her plump ass cheeks. The pleated saree lay half-dbangd on the bed, a fat black cockroach scuttling across the pallu.
She ran straight into his arms, trembling, pressing her damp, warm body flush against him. Her breasts squished against his chest, nipples already pebbled from the cool air and fear. “Bhaiya… kill it… please!”
Harish’s arms wrapped around her instinctively—one hand on her bare lower back, the other sliding down to cup her hip. His fingers dug into the soft flesh just above the thong’s waistband. He could feel her heartbeat hammering against him. With a quick swipe of his foot, he crushed the insect and flicked it away.
But his cock had already jumped to full, aching hardness—pressing obscenely against her soft belly through his thin pajama pants. Mrunal didn’t notice at first, still clinging, face buried in his neck, her hot breath fanning his skin. “Thank you… I hate those things…”
Harish didn’t let go. His palm glided lower, tracing the curve of her ass, thumb brushing the red string that vanished between her cheeks. His other hand roamed up her side, “accidentally” grazing the side of her breast. She shivered but stayed pressed close—her body still buzzing from the shower, skin scented with jasmine soap and something hotter underneath.
Only when he slowly sank to his knees did she register the shift.
Harish’s hands gripped her hips possessively. He leaned in, lips brushing her oval-shaped navel—soft, deep, glistening faintly with leftover shower droplets. His tongue flicked inside it, circling, tasting salt and skin. Then he kissed lower, open-mouthed along the gentle swell of her tummy, sucking lightly, leaving a wet trail.
Mrunal gasped sharply, jerking back. “Harish! What—what are you doing?!”
He looked up, eyes dark and hungry, hands still locked on her hips. “Shhh… you’re shaking, Mrunal. Let me calm you down. You feel so warm… so soft…”
“No!” She tried to step back, but her legs wobbled. “You’re Priya’s husband… my sister’s husband! This is wrong—you can’t—”
Her voice cracked as his tongue dragged across her navel again, deeper this time, while one hand boldly slipped around to squeeze her ass cheek, fingers dipping under the thong string and tugging it aside. The cool air kissed her already slick pussy lips. She was dripping—had been since last night’s sounds had leaked through the walls and stirred something forbidden in her.
Harish rose just enough to pull her against him again, his thick erection now grinding openly against her mound. “Your body doesn’t think it’s wrong, baby. Feel how wet you are already. Your nipples are begging…” He cupped one breast through the red lace, thumb flicking the stiff peak hard. Mrunal moaned despite herself, hips twitching forward.
“Please… we can’t… Priya… Vivek…” she whimpered, but her hands had already clutched his shoulders, nails digging in.
He spun her suddenly, pressing her front against the dressing table mirror. Her reflection stared back—flushed face, red bra askew, thong pulled aside exposing her swollen, shaved cunt glistening with arousal. Harish yanked his pajama down, his heavy cock slapping against her ass—thicker than she expected, veined and leaking.
“Look at yourself,” he growled in her ear, biting her lobe. One hand shoved two fingers straight into her soaked hole—curling, scissoring, stretching. The wet squelch filled the room. “See how your pussy is sucking my fingers? You’ve been aching since you saw those marks on Priya this morning, haven’t you?”
Mrunal’s knees buckled. “Ahhh… Harish… stop… oh fuck, deeper—”
He didn’t stop. He kicked her legs wider, bent her forward so her tits spilled out of the bra onto the cool wood, and replaced his fingers with the fat head of his cock. One brutal thrust and he buried half his length inside her—her walls fluttering wildly around the invasion.
Mrunal screamed in pleasure, forehead pressed to the mirror, fogging it with her breath. “Too big… you’re splitting me… my brother-in-law’s cock inside me… oh god!”
Harish gripped her hair, pulling her head back so she had to watch. He slammed in fully—balls-deep—then fucked her with savage, possessive strokes. The mirror shook. Her ass rippled with every impact. He reached around and rubbed her clit in tight, merciless circles while his other hand mauled her swinging breasts, pinching and twisting both nipples until she sobbed.
“Say it,” he snarled, pounding harder, the wet slap of skin echoing. “Say you want your sister’s husband to ruin this married pussy.”
“I—I want it!” she cried, breaking completely. Her body betrayed her utterly—cunt clamping, squirting a hot gush around his pistoning shaft. “Fuck me harder, Harish! Breed me like you bred Priya last night!”
He roared, flipping her onto the bed in one motion. Her legs were shoved up to her shoulders, red thong ripped off and dangling from one ankle. Harish mounted her like an animal—deep, grinding strokes that hit her cervix every time. He sucked her tits raw, leaving fresh bite marks beside the faint ones from last night. His thumb pressed into her puckered asshole, fingering it open while his cock destroyed her cunt.
Mrunal came violently—back arching, eyes rolling, a flood soaking his thighs and the sheets. “Cumming… on my sister’s husband’s cock… I’m cumming so hard!”
Harish didn’t pull out. He buried himself to the hilt and erupted—thick, endless ropes of cum blasting straight into her womb, overflowing and creaming out around his shaft in messy white rings. He kept thrusting through it, pushing every drop deeper, marking her.
When he finally collapsed beside her, both panting, sweat-slick and trembling, Mrunal turned to him with dazed, lust-drunk eyes. Her fingers traced the fresh cum leaking from her ruined pussy.
She whispered, voice hoarse and hungry, “Priya can never know

[Suresh@123]

lightweight duplicate line remover








To be continued

[gvsubu1995]

Finally you updated... Nice one.. But big update need..

[Suresh@123]

Finally you updated... Nice one.. But big update need..

Thank you bro