Adultery Ananya - My beautiful wife

[val.coutinho]

Rajesh liver will be damaged soon and he will die. Ananya will be official slut of vicky family

Hahahaha..... What an imagination....... 

[Johnnythedevil]

Super update

[chellaporukki]

Vicky should fuck her in the bed next to her husband record and show it to Arjun

[Manikandarajesh]

Interesting narration

[Rakul1985]

The bitch is slowly coming out of Ananya

Right

[sureshReddy5489]

When can we expect the next update? Less frequent updates are killing the mood and excitement. I know the author is doing it without any returns, and I totally appreciate it, but if you want readers to engage to this, please plan to provide an update once in two days or atleast one big bang update once and twice a week

[kirak9484]

Awesome

Thankyou

[kirak9484]

Fuck... dont delay next update

Tq

[kirak9484]

Awesome........waiting for next.

Thank you

[kirak9484]

I am hoping Vicky will tease her now and make her even wetter!!!

Thank you bro

[kirak9484]

The bitch is slowly coming out of Ananya

Thank you

[kirak9484]

Rajesh liver will be damaged soon and he will die. Ananya will be official slut of vicky family

Thank you

[kirak9484]

Super

Thankyou

[kirak9484]

Hahahaha..... What an imagination....... 

Haaaaa haaaa. Tq

[kirak9484]

Super update

Thank you bro

[kirak9484]

Vicky should fuck her in the bed next to her husband record and show it to Arjun

Thankyou

[kirak9484]

Interesting narration

Thankyou

[kirak9484]

Right

Yes bro

[kirak9484]

When can we expect the next update? Less frequent updates are killing the mood and excitement. I know the author is doing it without any returns, and I totally appreciate it, but if you want readers to engage to this, please plan to provide an update once in two days or atleast one big bang update once and twice a week

OK bro. Thankyou

[kirak9484]

Ananya stood frozen in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection staring back at her like a stranger.
The woman in the mirror looked breathtakingly sensual. The deep maroon sleeveless blouse hugged her 34D breasts tightly, pushing them up and creating a deep, inviting cleavage that she had never shown to anyone except Rajesh. Her smooth, fair armpits were completely exposed, looking soft and vulnerable. The saree was tied dangerously low — two full inches below her deep oval navel — revealing a seductive strip of her soft, honey-gold tummy. The delicate golden belly chain rested openly just above the saree line, glinting seductively with every small movement. When she turned slightly, the saree clung to her wide hips and full, rounded buttocks, accentuating every curve.
She looked like a woman who wanted to be desired.
And that realization hit her like a thunderbolt.
What have I done?
Her conservative mind screamed in horror. She was Ananya Sharma — the respectable English lecturer, the devoted wife who always dbangd her pallu high, who never showed even an inch of her midriff in public, who took pride in her moral values and modesty. She had always believed that her body was only for Rajesh’s eyes. Only for his loving hands and worshipping tongue.
Yet here she was.
Dressed like this.
For her husband’s boss.
The guilt crashed over her in waves.
Rajesh loves me so much. He worships me every night. He calls me his goddess. And I’m standing here, exposing my cleavage, my armpits, my navel… just because Vicky Sir is coming? What kind of wife am I? What kind of woman have I become?
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
But another part of her — a darker, newly awakened part — whispered back.
You’re doing this to thank him. He saved you from Arjun. He protected your reputation. He brought your drunk husband home safely. He deserves to see that you’re grateful. And… you look beautiful. Really beautiful. Doesn’t a woman have the right to feel desirable sometimes?
She ran her fingers lightly over her exposed midriff. The touch sent a shiver down her spine. Her deep oval navel quivered visibly. The golden belly chain moved with her breathing. She traced the rim of her navel slowly, remembering how Rajesh’s tongue felt there… and how Payal had described Vicky doing the same.
A fresh wave of heat flooded between her thighs.
Oh God… why does this feel so good? Why am I getting wet thinking about another man seeing me like this?
She felt ashamed of her body’s betrayal. Ashamed of the way her nipples had hardened into tight peaks, clearly visible through the thin maroon blouse. Ashamed of the growing dampness in her petticoat.
This is wrong. So wrong. I love Rajesh. He is my everything. He works so hard for us. And here I am… dressing like a slut for his boss. If he wakes up and sees me like this, what will he think?
Yet she didn’t change her clothes.
Instead, she turned sideways again, admiring the dramatic curve of her lower back and the way the low saree highlighted her juicy hips. She remembered Vicky’s intense gaze last night when his hand had brushed her bare hip. The way his eyes had darkened with hunger.
A forbidden thrill ran through her.
He called me exceptionally beautiful. No one has ever looked at me with such raw desire. Not even Rajesh looks at me with that intensity anymore. Is it so bad to feel wanted like this? Just for one evening?
Her mind was tearing itself apart.
The good Ananya — the moral, faithful, conservative wife — was screaming at her to change back into a modest saree immediately.
The hidden Ananya — the one awakened by Arjun’s harassment, Payal’s dirty whispers, the anonymous cuckold videos, and Vicky’s powerful presence — was whispering:
You deserve to feel this alive. You deserve to be looked at like a woman, not just a wife. Just once. Let him see what he saved. Let him see how grateful you are.
She touched her deep navel again, pressing lightly into the soft hollow. A soft moan escaped her lips.
“Mmm…”
The sound shocked her. She quickly pulled her hand away, face burning with shame.
Look at me… moaning just from touching my own navel. What has happened to me?
The doorbell rang.
Ananya’s heart nearly exploded. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She looked at herself one final time — the sleeveless blouse, the deep cleavage, the exposed soft tummy, the visible belly chain, the low-tied saree that made her look like a sensual goddess.
Tears filled her eyes even as her body throbbed with forbidden excitement.
Am I still the same Ananya who taught Romantic poetry with high moral values? Or have I already started becoming someone else?
She took a deep, shaky breath, adjusted her pallu slightly (though it still revealed tempting glimpses of her midriff), and walked toward the door with trembling steps.
Her mind was still screaming:
This is wrong… this is wrong… this is wrong…
But her body was already tingling with anticipation.
And deep down, a small, dangerous voice whispered:
Just this once…