Adultery Seduction of My Wife Padma (UPDATED 30-DEC-25)

[Runer]

Wonderful update. Continue the story.

[sharath841]

She took a slow, steadying breath, her chest rising against the soft dbang of her saree.
? Padma: “Why did you become interested in me, Rajan?”
Rajan’s usual smooth, dominating smile appeared.
? Rajan: “You really want to know, Padma?”
? Padma: “I asked you a direct question.”
? Rajan: “Because you were different.”
Padma let out a soft sigh, her dark eyes narrowing.
? Padma: “You’ve already said that.”
Rajan leaned back comfortably, his sharp eyes watching her every reaction with an unhurried, intense gaze.
? Rajan: “I’m talking about much earlier.”
Something in his low, quiet tone made Padma hesitate. Her pulse gave a sudden, nervous flutter.
? Padma: “Earlier?”
? Rajan: “College.”
Padma’s heart hit her ribs. She abruptly looked away, her fingers instinctively tightening around the dark, silken edge of her saree pallu.
Mohan noticed her sudden shift immediately. Playing his part, he deliberately turned to Rajan with an expression of sharp, apparent confusion.
? Mohan: “College? What on earth happened in college?”
Padma glanced at her husband, panic flaring in her chest. She hadn't expected Rajan to bring up a ghost she had tried so hard to bury.
? Padma: “It’s… nothing, Mohan.”
Rajan gave a slow, knowing little smile, leaning his forearms on the wooden table.
? Rajan: “Nothing, Padma?”
Padma’s eyes snapped back to him, her voice a hushed, desperate warning.
? Padma: “Rajan…”
? Rajan: “You remember it vividly.”
A warm, telltale flush began to spread across her cheeks, climbing up her throat to the soft skin of her neck.
? Padma: “That was years ago.”
? Rajan: “I remember every single second of it.”
Mohan kept his expression completely neutral, masterfully pretending this was the very first time he was hearing any of it.
? Mohan: “What are you two talking about? What happened?”
Padma became visibly uncomfortable, her shy, traditional nature squirming under the spotlight.
? Padma: “Mohan, please… not here…”
Rajan couldn’t resist leaning into her reaction, his tone dipped in smooth, teasing provocation.
? Rajan: “Your wife had quite a temper back then, Mohan.”
Padma lowered her eyes, staring down at her folded hands.
? Padma: “I don’t want to talk about this.”
? Rajan: “You certainly didn’t mind expressing yourself that day.”
Padma looked up sharply, her eyes flashing.
? Mohan: “What did he do, Padma?”
Padma hesitated, her throat tight. She clearly couldn’t bring herself to voice the physical detail.
Rajan answered for her, his voice dropping into a low, deliberate tone that made her skin prickle.
? Rajan: “I touched her without her permission. I reached out and touched her buttery waist…”
Padma’s face went rigid with sheer tension.
? Mohan: “You did what?”
Rajan nodded, wholly unfazed by Mohan's outburst.
? Rajan: “And she turned around and slapped me right across my face in front of the entire corridor.”
Padma immediately looked down, deeply embarrassed by the vivid memory being laid bare in public. Mohan stared at Rajan as though processing the shock for the first time.
? Mohan: “I can’t believe this…”
Padma stole a hesitant glance at her husband. Seeing the shock and hurt on his face made a heavy pang of guilt crash into her heart. She had recognized Rajan the moment he reappeared in their lives, yet she had kept that dark college chapter hidden, convincing herself it was just an unpleasant, forgotten incident from her youth.
Now, with Rajan standing over her life again and causing so much chaos in her marriage, she wondered if her secrecy had been a tragic mistake.
She lowered her eyes, her voice barely a whisper.
? Padma: “It’s just something that happened a long time ago, Mohan…”
? Rajan: “That was the first time you made me realize you weren’t afraid of me, Padma.”
? Padma: “I wasn’t supposed to be afraid of you.”
? Rajan: “Exactly.”
Padma turned her face away again, unable to meet his intense gaze. Rajan continued, his voice softer now, almost intimate.
? Rajan: “Everyone else treated me differently because of my family name and my money. You didn’t.” He paused, letting the silence stretch between them. “You rejected me.”
Padma remained dead silent, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
? Rajan: “You slapped me.” Another heavy pause. “And then you simply walked away as if I didn’t even exist.”
Padma’s dark eyes flickered back toward him.
? Rajan: “That’s what stayed with me every single night since.”
? Padma: “It should have stayed as a lesson in boundaries.”
? Rajan: “Maybe.” His dark eyes remained fixed on her flushed face. “But for me, it became an obsession. A question I couldn't answer.”
? Padma: “What question?”
Rajan smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of his lips.
? Rajan: “Why was the one woman who wanted absolutely nothing from me the only woman I couldn’t stop thinking about?”
Padma didn’t answer. Her cheeks were still burning, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment alone. It was the terrifying, intoxicating realization that an unpleasant incident she had buried years ago had become the defining fantasy that drove this dangerous man.
Mohan reached across the table and firmly took her cold hand. She squeezed it back instantly, clinging to her husband like a lifeline.
? Mohan: “So that’s why you’ve been harassing us?”
Rajan shook his head slowly.
? Rajan: “That’s just where it started.”
Padma looked up at him instantly, her brows drawing tight.
? Padma: “Started?”
Rajan smoothly stood up from the table, adjusting the cuffs of his dark shirt.
? Rajan: “You asked why I became interested in you, Padma.” He gave her one last, lingering, knowing look. “I gave you the beginning.”
Padma frowned, her chest rising as frustration surged through her.
? Padma: “And the rest of the story?”
Rajan’s enigmatic smile returned.
? Rajan: “That’s a story for another day.”
He made a subtle movement as if to step away, but neither Padma nor Mohan were satisfied with another one of his elusive mind games. Leaving like this left them suspended in total powerlessness.
Padma stood up abruptly, her dark silk saree rustling softly, her voice ringing with sharp, uncompromising authority.
? Padma: “No, Rajan! Not another day. Tell us the rest of the story today.”
Mohan rose right beside her, stepping forward to block Rajan’s path, his face rigid with anger.
? Mohan: “She’s right. You don’t get to walk away whenever it suits you. Finish what you started right now!”
Rajan paused, looking between the two of them. A slow, mocking amusement danced in his dark eyes as he observed their desperate attempt to demand control.
? Rajan: “You both talk as if you’re in a position to negotiate.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. “I speak when I want to speak. Today, you’ve heard enough.”
Padma glared at him, her lips trembling with suppressed rage.
? Padma: “Then we have nothing left to say to you either. We’re leaving.”
She turned on her heel without waiting for another word, taking Mohan by his arm. They walked out of the café together, trying to maintain a united, dignified front.
Yet despite their proud exit, they had failed to convince him. They were walking away empty-handed, carrying even more agonizing questions than when they arrived.
Rajan didn't move. He stood near the wide glass window, casually resting one hand in his pocket as he watched them step out into the bright street.
His eyes locked onto Padma from behind as she walked away.
The dark silk of her saree hugged her natural waist, tracing every slow, sensual curve of her hips with every step she took. The smooth, rhythmic sway of her sexy ass beneath the pleats of the saree was mesmerizing—a striking blend of traditional elegance and irresistible allure that made his mouth go dry.
A dark, deeply satisfied smirk spread across Rajan’s face.
She thought she was walking away in defiance, but he knew the truth. He had planted the seed, and as he watched her attractive figure disappear down the street, he knew it was only a matter of time before her curiosity brought her right back into his hands.

[sharath841]

Padma kept her eyes ahead as they walked, her hand wrapped around Mohan’s.
Her mind was trapped in the past. College. That corridor. Rajan.
? Mohan: “You never told me about him.”
Padma slowed her steps, looking down.
? Padma: “I didn’t think it mattered. It was an unpleasant incident—he touched me, I rejected him, I slapped him. I thought it was over.”
? Mohan: “He clearly thinks it mattered.”
? Padma: “Why would someone hold onto that for so many years?”
Mohan knew the answer—Rajan had already told him pieces of it long ago—but he kept his face completely still.
? Mohan: “Maybe because he never accepted your rejection.”
Bzzzt.
Padma’s phone vibrated. A text from Rajan.
? Rajan: You asked about the beginning. But you’re forgetting something, Padma.
Padma stopped in her tracks, her thumb hovering over the screen.
? Rajan: The slap wasn’t the end of that day. Ask yourself what happened after you walked away.
Padma stared at the glass, her heart skipping a beat. She remembered the corridor, the slap, and walking away—but was there a detail she had buried?
She locked the phone, panic quietly settling in.
? Padma: “I don’t remember.”
? Mohan: “Then don’t let him choose what you remember.”
Padma stayed silent, unsettled. She didn't know that Rajan was waiting with a memory she had forgotten—and one Mohan had secretly known about all along.
That evening, Padma couldn’t settle. She moved around the bedroom, restlessly folding clothes that were already neat.
Mohan watched her from the edge of the bed.
? Mohan: “You’re still thinking about what Rajan said.”
Padma stopped and sat beside him.
? Padma: “I can’t stop, Mohan. I remember the slap, everyone looking at me, walking away... but he insists something else happened.”
? Mohan: “Rajan lies whenever it benefits him.”
Bzzzt. Her phone lit up with consecutive messages from Rajan.
? Rajan: You really don’t remember?
? Rajan: After you slapped me, you said, “Stay away from me.”
? Rajan: And I did. For years.
Padma’s eyes narrowed. That sounded familiar.
? Padma: “He says he stayed away... for years.”
? Mohan: “Did he?”
? Padma: “I thought he did.” She looked at Mohan, guilt in her eyes. “I should have told you about him the moment I recognized him.”
Mohan’s chest tightened.
? Mohan: “You don’t have to blame yourself, Padma.”
? Padma: “I’m blaming myself for keeping secrets from you.”
Mohan reached out and took her hand, pulling her close.
While Padma looked away, a silent notification flashed on Mohan’s own phone:
? Rajan: You remember what happened after the slap, don’t you, Mohan?
Mohan froze, instantly locking his screen before she could see.
Rajan wasn’t just threatening to reveal a college memory—he was reminding Mohan that he had known about that slap, and Rajan's fixation on Padma, long before Padma ever told him.

Mohan remained completely still for several seconds after reading Rajan’s message.
He looked over at Padma. She was sitting near the window, lost in thought, completely unaware of the text glowing on his screen.
Mohan quickly locked the display, but the damage was done. Rajan didn’t just know about the college incident; he knew Mohan had secretly known about it long before Padma ever mentioned it.
Padma turned toward him, her dark eyes searching his face.
? Padma: “Mohan? You’re unusually quiet.”
Mohan forced a soft, reassuring smile.
? Mohan: “Just thinking about everything that happened today, Padma. About us.”
Her expression softened. She moved closer, resting her head gently against his shoulder.
? Padma: “I should have told you about college years ago, Mohan.”
Mohan closed his eyes, his heart heavy with guilt.
? Mohan: “Maybe...”
She lifted her head, looking into his eyes.
? Padma: “You aren’t angry with me?”
? Mohan: “Not with you, Padma. Never with you.”
Padma looked relieved, taking a soft breath. But then a quiet thought crossed her mind.
? Padma: “When you heard him bring up college today at the café... you looked genuinely shocked.”
Mohan’s stomach dropped.
? Mohan: “Hearing him say those things right in front of you was just... different.”
Padma accepted the answer, though she still looked troubled.
? Padma: “He spoke as if he’s carried that single day for years. Why couldn’t he just forget me?”
Mohan gently squeezed her hand.
? Mohan: “Some men don’t know how to let go when they don’t get what they want.”
Bzzzt.
Mohan’s phone vibrated in his palm. Padma noticed instantly.
? Padma: “Who is that? Rajan?”
Mohan hesitated before nodding.
? Padma: “What does he want now?”
? Mohan: “I don’t know...”
It was the first real lie he had told her tonight. Padma caught the brief hesitation in his voice, her brows drawing together.
Mohan unlocked his phone to read the notification:
? Rajan: Don’t make me tell her how you first learned about her, Mohan.
Mohan froze. His skin went cold.
Padma watched his face drain of color.
? Padma: “Mohan… what did he write to you?”
He stared at her, unable to speak. The sheer fear in his eyes made Padma’s expression shift from curiosity to deep dread.
? Padma: “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Mohan slowly set the phone face-down on the bed.
? Mohan: “Padma… there is something I need to tell you.”
Padma’s posture went rigid.
? Padma: “What is it?”
Mohan took a deep, shaky breath to confess, but before the words could leave his mouth, his phone screen flashed one last time:
? Rajan: Tell her yourself, Mohan. Or I will.
Padma stared at Mohan’s trembling hands, and in that terrifying silence, she realized one chilling truth:
Whatever Rajan knew about her past, her husband had been keeping it a secret, too.

[sharath841]

Padma stared at Mohan, the air in the bedroom growing thick and heavy.
? Padma: “What does Rajan know about you, Mohan?”
Mohan looked down, unable to escape the weight of her gaze.
? Mohan: “I need to explain something, Padma... Before today, Rajan had already told me about that college incident.”
Padma’s face went pale.
? Padma: “What?”
? Mohan: “He told me about your college days. About you rejecting him. About the slap.”
She stared at him, completely stunned.
? Padma: “Then why did you pretend to be surprised at the café today?”
? Mohan: “Because I was terrified you’d think I was discussing your past with him behind your back.”
Padma stood up slowly, stepping back.
? Padma: “So when you asked, ‘What happened in college?’...”
? Mohan: “I already knew.”
Pain crossed her face, far deeper than any anger.
? Padma: “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
? Mohan: “Because I was afraid... afraid you’d ask how much Rajan and I had actually talked about you.”
A sharp silence fell between them. Padma’s expression became guarded.
? Padma: “How much, Mohan?”
Mohan didn’t answer right away. His hesitation was an answer in itself.
? Padma: “What does that mean?”
Bzzzt.
Mohan’s phone vibrated on the mattress. Before he could react, Padma reached down and picked it up.
? Mohan: “Padma, please don’t—”
She ignored him, her eyes locking onto the glowing screen.
? Rajan: Now you know he knew.
? Rajan: But he still hasn’t told you everything.
Padma slowly looked up from the glass, her dark eyes filled with a quiet, breaking vulnerability.
? Padma: “What else is there? Please... don’t make me hear another secret from him.”
Her soft plea hit Mohan harder than any outburst. He stepped closer, his hands trembling.
? Mohan: “Padma, whatever Rajan says, remember one thing—he uses truth and lies to manipulate people.”
Padma held the phone between them like a shield.
? Padma: “Then tell me your version right now, before he gets the chance.”
Mohan took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded slowly. He sat down on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands for a brief second before looking up at her.
? Mohan: “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”
Padma sat down directly opposite him, her conservative saree tucked tightly around her, her spine straight.
For the first time, Rajan wasn't in the room. There were no incoming messages, no evasive answers—only the truth Mohan had been running from, ready to shatter the last remaining illusion of their marriage.

[sharath841]

Padma: “Start from the very beginning, Mohan. No hiding.”
Mohan took a deep, ragged breath, refusing to look away this time.
? Mohan: “Rajan contacted me long before you ever knew he was involved in our lives, Padma.”
Padma’s brows drew together, a flicker of confusion crossing her face.
? Padma: “Why would he contact you? What reason did he have?”
Mohan hesitated, his throat dry, his cheeks burning with shame.
? Mohan: “Because… he knew about my dark thoughts. He knew about my fantasies.”
The air left Padma’s chest. The soft, exposed skin of her neck flushed a warm, embarrassed red under the dim lamp light.
? Mohan: “He somehow found out that I had those weak, foolish thoughts about other men noticing you… admiring how beautiful my wife is.”
Padma lowered her gaze, staring down at her lap, her fingers clutching the dbang of her saree pallu tight against her chest.
? Padma: “So that’s how he knew… that’s how he targeted us?”
? Mohan: “Yes.”
? Padma: “And you actually spoke to him about me? Behind my back?”
Mohan nodded reluctantly, every word painful to utter.
? Mohan: “I spoke to him. I shared details… thoughts I should have kept locked inside me. I didn’t realize he was feeding off it, using it as leverage to dismantle us.”
Padma remained dead silent for a long moment, her heart hammering against her ribs.
? Padma: “You should have told me the moment he approached you, Mohan.”
? Mohan: “I was deeply ashamed, Padma. Ashamed of my own weakness.”
She looked up, her dark eyes laced with a quiet, alluring sorrow mixed with firm resolve.
? Padma: “Being ashamed doesn’t make a secret disappear. It only gives men like Rajan room to breathe.”
Mohan lowered his head.
? Mohan: “I know.”
Bzzzt.
The sudden vibration against the nightstand made them both freeze. Padma reached out, her dark, elegant fingers picking up the phone.
A message from Rajan.
? Rajan (Message): “Now you’re finally hearing his side of the story.”
A second text flashed immediately beneath the first.
? Rajan (Message): “But ask him how we first met, Padma. Ask your husband where it really began.”
Padma slowly raised her head, her gaze piercing through Mohan.
? Padma: “How did you and Rajan actually meet for the very first time?”
Mohan went rigid. The color drained completely from his face. He had known this question was an inevitable trap waiting to snap shut.
? Mohan: “That’s… complicated, Padma.”
? Padma: “Mohan, please,” her voice dropped to a soft, breathy whisper, laced with desperate pleading. “No more half-truths between us.”
He closed his eyes, nodding slowly.
? Mohan: “He found out about the private apartment group first. That’s what brought us into the same space.”
Padma stared at him, her lips parting slightly.
? Padma: “And after that?”
Mohan hesitated, swallowing hard.
? Mohan: “After that… he started asking deeply personal questions about you.”
Padma’s expression hardened into pure, cold ice, a shiver running down her spine.
? Padma: “What kind of questions, Mohan?”
Mohan couldn’t answer. The silence stretched between them, heavy and damning.
And in that agonizing pause, a terrifying truth washed over Padma. Rajan hadn’t just randomly reappeared to haunt her past. He had been quietly studying her, feeding on her husband’s vulnerabilities, and carving his way into her traditional, private world long before she ever realized she was being watched.

[sharath841]

Mohan could see that she wasn’t going to let the subject go.
Padma sat opposite him, her dark silk saree clinging to her waist, her posture rigid yet captivating in the dim glow of the bedroom lamp. The sheer vulnerability on her face only heightened the delicate, seductive tension between them.
? Padma: “What did Rajan ask you about me, Mohan? Tell me every word.”
Mohan rubbed his palms together nervously, the guilt making his chest heave.
? Mohan: “At first, ordinary things... how long we’d been married, where we lived, how quiet and innocent you were. But then... his questions changed.”
Padma’s eyebrows tightened, her lips parting slightly.
? Padma: “Changed how?”
? Mohan: “He started feeding my darkest fantasies, Padma. He asked about your modesty... how you dress, how shy you are in bed, how soft your skin is under your saree. And because I was weak, I answered him.”
He once asked (Rajan)what your wife doing ? 
Mohan : she sleeping on bed . 
Rajan : what position? 
Mohan : inverted , 
Rajan: So her big bum is facing the sky and talking to fan.  can you see her bum crack … how it would be aaahhh want to smell that bum and lick that ? …
A hot flush of sheer embarrassment rushed up Padma’s neck, burning against her cheeks. Her fingers clutched the fabric over her chest, shocked by the intimate violation.
? Padma: “You... you discussed such dirty about my body with him?” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of betrayal and undeniable, electric heat.
? Mohan: “I did. He made it sound like an art... admiring your beauty. He told me a woman like you—so pure, so traditional—was a rare treasure. He started describing how he envisioned taking off your saree, how he wanted to make you squirm under his touch and strip away your clothes by kissing for each cloth and you  ?  shy and closing your face by both hands and and… 
Padma’s breath caught in her throat. She lost control and asked Padma : And… what tell me fully .

? Mohan: He want to fuck your pussy with his big dick and what to hear your screams and moans ..“ He encouraged me to share private photos of you, to describe your reactions when I touched you. He knew exactly how to make me feel like I was sharing a secret masterpiece with him.”
Padma looked away, her chest rising and falling rapidly under the tight dbang of her pallu. The thought of Rajan holding her husband’s phone, reading detailed descriptions of her body and her modest intimacy, sent an intoxicating, terrifying shiver straight down her spine.
Bzzzt.
Her phone vibrated in her lap. With trembling, warm fingers, she picked it up.
? Rajan (Message): “Ask him what I asked him to do while I ram you ?
Padma’s eyes widened as she read the glowing words. Her cheeks burned with a deep, sensual heat. She slowly raised her dark eyes toward Mohan, her voice dropping into a raspy, intense whisper.
? Padma: “He says... (keeping her head down with shy and anger) while he doing that to me you know that thing..what he asked you to do ?
Mohan couldn't meet her gaze, his head hanging low.
? Mohan: “No plz enough .. 
Padma : Tell me next 
Mohan : He wanted me to watch how he do to you and mean while I should be shagging holding the dick enjoying Your sex ..

Padma: Our sex …! She shrugged and stared at her husband, realizing with terrifying clarity that long before Rajan ever stepped back into her physical world

[Runer]

Next update

[sharath841]

After the difficult conversation, they had something simple for dinner and went to bed without discussing Rajan anymore.
Padma had changed into her usual homely nightwear—a soft cotton T-shirt and comfortable pajama bottoms, her long dark hair casually tied back. Stripped of the saree, jewellery, and careful appearance she maintained for the outside world, she looked entirely like herself again: quiet, vulnerable, and intimately familiar.
But inside, her blood was running hot and restless.
She lay beside Mohan under the light bedsheet, shifting restlessly against the mattress. The heavy confessions from earlier kept burning in her mind—the secret desires Mohan had carried, the dangerous intensity of Rajan’s obsession, and the unsettling realization that hearing those forbidden details had sparked a confusing, electric friction deep within her.
Mohan noticed the uneven rhythm of her breath beside him.
? Mohan: “Padma… you’re still awake?”
She turned her head on the pillow, her dark eyes reflecting the dim room.
? Padma: “I can’t sleep, Mohan.”
He shifted closer, his body radiating heat, though he hesitated to touch her.
? Mohan: “Are you still angry with me?”
She looked at him, her chest rising and falling beneath her loose top.
? Padma: “I’m confused… about everything.”
Mohan looked at her for a long moment. Then, overcome by the emotion of the night, he gently pulled her closer.
While kissing him, the echo of Rajan’s crude words suddenly flashed through her mind like a sudden, sickening jolt.

The vivid imagery of those secret chats—the way Rajan had spoken about her body, her modesty, and the intimate details Mohan had shared like now she felt flooded her thoughts, completely shattering the quiet warmth of the moment.
The touch against her lips transformed in an instant. For one terrifying beat, the dark bedroom seemed to blur, and the hands resting at her waist no longer felt like her husband’s familiar, hesitant touch.

It felt as though Rajan ( Rajan touched her earlier there )likehimself were holding her, pinning her beneath his heavy, possessive gaze.
Padma gasped, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Padma: “No! Get off me!”
Mohan : What happened?!!
[b]Padma: “For a moment… it felt like Rajan was the one kissing me. I don’t want to feel that way. Please… leave it.”
Suddenly Mohan slipped his hand inside her pyjama and inside her inner’s on her Loveline which was sharp trimmed … There he felt like someone rubbed  camel gum … she was putting her hand on his wrist and pushing back and she was wobbling , Then he goes little inside the orang fruit she give a gasp and finger went in it was very well lubricated… she closed her eyes and had her hand on his wrist .. he got to know how she was tempted by his confession over Rajan … she was embarrassed and she want to push but no energy no oppose .. Her breathing got rapid .. he was fingering her and started kissing her neck she slowly hugged him… after 5 minute he asked her [/b]
Mohan: Are you ok or shall I stop ? 
She has no words… she was continuously getting Rajan thoughts and she was feeling him in her mind 
Mohan asked repeatedly but there was no response from her… 
Bzzzzzz A msg beaped She got conscious she pushed him and lifer her pyjama as if she is opposing .. 
Mohan : What happened again..? 
Her hand went to phone .. he was observing 
(Rajan in text : How is going on..? 
She felt confused and is he reading my mind .. 
Mohan : what he texted ? 
She : he is asking how is going on .. is he watching us ? 
He : He is playing forget him … take him oustide your head
She got again on bed, after 30 seconds he again put his hand on her pyjama this looked at him and she lifted her ass to help him , he slipped his hand inside and started finger works and his kissing and she slowly started responding and she was feeling like Rajan holding her kissing her and fingering her … 
Mohan : Sorry dear .. It was me who hurted your feelings… 
She was listening and after few seconds he asked her on purpose 
Mohan : He put another hand on her stomach.. Am also not liking him dear … he said he want to put his hand on your buttery waist … Mohan started kneading her thin fat layered smooth stomach .. upon hearing the fantasy and talks she aroused even more and then … Mohan removed his hand she was displeased and looked at him like what happened? 
Mohan removed her pyjama and panty  completely in a one go .. her thighs knee shine everything was shining in light … then he widened her heavy legs she was submitted .. 
Mohan become n..de and put his Pistol on the mouth I mean on loveline and she gasped and shivered and he slowly started roaming the gun … she was so anxious and his slowly and steadily pressurised the gun that went in easily she give a ahhh light moan … he placed his lip on her and started slow action… 
Mohan : That bastard wanted my pure beauty , my sacred wife 
Padma: Yea he s a bastard … a dirty man… bloody looser.
Mohan : Lov you.. 
Padma : Lov u so much 
Both enjoying 
Mohan : How bad and dirty… 
Padma: what ?
Mohan : How badly he wanted to … 
Padma : what ? 
Mohan : How badly he wanted to have you (he said it like descently ..)
Padma : Yes very dirty …but she is slowly getting Rajan thoughts 
Mohan : How badly he wanted put his big dick inside your pussy … 
Padma: She wanted open her eyes and wanted to stop but her mouth didn’t open … instead she slowly said Mohan… no.. 
Mohan : yes dear but he wanted to fuck you roughly … like hard shots… and started giving hard shots 
This time Padma aroused like anything she hugged him tightly and put her legs around his waist .. 
Padma : Haaammm…why do he want to do it .. 
Mohan : Bcs your a sacred beauty insulted him .. 
Padma: Am I that sacred?
Mohan: Yes dear my sacred beautiful wife …
He wanted to fuck you like this and like a pornstar and started ramming her with speed 
Padma started scratching his Back with her brown coloured long nails . And she started lifting her hips 
Padma: Pornstar..!! 
Mohan : Even he wanted to be a porn star Jony sins for you and changing the poses and he wanted you to lick his cum..
Padma: Chi chi I can’t do that that’s dirty ( she as if telling she can do rest all things other than licking the cum )
Mohan lifted her t shirt and br. and saw her bossom fruits and he started eating it and 
Mohan : He wanted to fuck you like bitch on heat and as a looser I have to shag …  
Upon hearing his humiliation she lost control and she cummed … her loveline become well I mean it got loose ..
Mohan never felt this loose in his marriage tenure.. she bucked her hips and put her hands on his bums and started pressing him and started asking harder… harder…Raj..  haaammmm and loosened her hold on him.. she was caught 
Later he also came both lying sidewise she was ashamed of herself… and turned other way . both never felt this feeling this much satisfaction.. 
Mohan also felt good for his fantasy but still shocked and confirmed that she was physically under me but mentally under Rajan… 
Phone bzzzz 
Rajan text : Did you enjoy .. ? 
She got frightened 
Rajan text: This bastard will even harder like real John Sin 
Padma : Shouted No…. He is somewhere here only 
Mohan : what happened? And watched the message he got frightened 
Mohan phone buzzzz 
Rajan text : So you are on the fantasy … tell her she will cumm multiple times … 
She what he texted you ..? 
He showed the msg .. she got to know something is fishy .. 
Padma held the phone tightly, her face drained of colour, while the same question kept circling through her mind: [b]How could Rajan know? Mohan read the message again and locked the phone. “We need to find out what is happening,” he said quietly. Padma nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the screen. Somewhere beyond their closed bedroom door, the night was completely silent—yet for the first time, both of them felt as though someone else was watching.
[/b]

[sharath841]

******

[sharath841]

After the frightening messages, they sat quietly for a few minutes.
? Mohan: “Let’s not think about this tonight. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
? Padma: “Hmm…”
Mohan checked his phone once more, closed his laptop, and kept it aside and thinking She took Rajan name at the end…
Neither of them said anything more.
Padma turned off the light, and they quietly went to bed.
The apartment slowly fell silent.
Within minutes, both were asleep.
The next morning…
Mohan got ready for the office, had breakfast, picked up his laptop bag, and left.
Padma watched him leave before returning inside.
Neither of them knew that the answer to Rajan’s disturbing knowledge was already sitting somewhere in their own home.
After Mohan left, Padma took a long shower, letting the warm water wash over her tired body.
She came out wrapped in a towel, her damp dark hair falling over her shoulders, and stood silently in front of the mirror, staring at her own reflection.
One question kept returning, heavier with every passing second: How did Rajan know?
The messages from the previous night wouldn’t leave her mind, nor could she shake the unsettling realization that things spoken in the absolute privacy of their bedroom were somehow known to him.
She lowered her eyes, a deeper, more personal memory surfacing—Mohan. His shaky confessions, the admission that he had discussed her with another man, and the intimate details he had allowed Rajan to weave into his fantasies. Her cheeks grew warm with shame.
? Padma: “How could he talk about me like that…?”
She covered her face for a moment. Then came the memory she found even harder to face—the previous night, the words Mohan had repeated, words she had first heard from Rajan. And worst of all, her own intense, confusing reaction.
She turned away from the mirror.
? Padma: “Chi… why did I become so confused?”
The most embarrassing part wasn’t simply what Mohan had confessed; it was that, for a few terrifying seconds, Rajan’s name had slipped from her own mouth.
Later that afternoon, after lunch, Padma walked slowly along the corridor outside their apartment. She returned home, closed the door behind her, and leaned against it in the quiet hall.
Her mind drifted back to those strange, forbidden descriptions. Why did Rajan want to imagine her that way? She remembered Mohan mentioning the word “pornstar.”
Padma frowned.
? Padma: “Pornstar… chi.”
Then she remembered another name Mohan had blurted out during his rambling.
“Johnny…”
She stood still, trying to remember. Johnny something… She couldn’t recall the full name, and the thought made her shake her head in sheer embarrassment.
? Padma: “Why am I even remembering this?”
And she started googling who is pornstar Johnny ?
There she finds a name Johnny sins ., Padma : Is he the one Johnny sins she utters slowly … checks his wiki there she confirms , then  starts watching his pic , His fair skin his bald head in blue T-shirt ..
Padma thinks what’s the deal in it .. then she closer the phone after that she goes to kitchen does some chores then her mind was ringing with last night episode Johnny sins does to pornstar.. then she thinks what he does to pornstar ..? And that a pornstar is that popular .. if these men talk so randomly about him he might have made lot of videos … wats so special about him .. she got curious and slowly she starts googling Johnny sins videos .. she finds a page opens it that shows lot of  videos  she started sweating .. she was confused which one to open she opens it … she got frightened not bcz of video!!! Sudden screaming of an woman  she was confused just closed it and then she got even curious she again googled Johnny sins popular video
She opens ;'., and clicking confirming that 18 years of old then a first video had a line : Deep pumped cooter of nasty ,
She opened it , showing big guy looking like him baldy drinking beer a big b_obed girl was talking then it goes to main thing Johnny came to action he started screwing and Padma got hot and closed and she felt what is there in it.. these are fictional clips why should I be curious..

[sharath841]

Padma stared at the search result for a few seconds.
? Padma: “Johnny Sins… Is this the name he meant?”
She opened the information page and looked at the photograph.
She studied his face for a moment—the bald head, the familiar appearance—and then quickly locked her phone.
? Padma: “Chi… why am I even doing this?”
She put the phone aside and went into the kitchen.
But the name wouldn’t leave her mind.
While doing the dishes, she found herself remembering Mohan’s words from the previous night.
Pornstar.
Johnny…
She frowned.
? Padma: “What is so special about this man?”
Her curiosity won.
She picked up her phone again and searched for more information. The results showed that he was a well-known adult-film performer with a huge amount of online material.
Padma’s eyes widened.
? Padma: “So many…?”
She immediately backed out.
For a moment she simply stood there, phone in hand, embarrassed by her own curiosity.
She wasn’t even sure what she had expected to find.
She had only wanted to understand the strange name Mohan had mentioned—and perhaps understand why Rajan had brought him into their conversation.
But now another uncomfortable thought entered her mind.
Was this what those two men had been talking about when they used that name?
She shook her head firmly.
? Padma: “Enough. I don’t need to know.”
She put the phone down.
Yet several minutes later, her eyes drifted toward it again.
The curiosity hadn’t disappeared.

She opens a site.
ON SCREEN
A beautiful foreign model, completely nude. A large, bulky man, also nude. They are already pressed together, kissing wet and deep. Dirty talk between them — low, filthy, close to the mic.
PADMA
(whisper, staring)
…god.
ON SCREEN
He drops his head. His tongue finds her. Long, slow licks along her. The model’s back arches. She screams — high, broken, not acting.
PADMA’S FACE
Eyes wide. Lips parted. She swallows.
ON SCREEN
The model looks down at him. Sees the size of him, the chest, the thickness of his arms.
Padma : How bulky and massive he is .. how big his thing is.. Double the size of Mohan !! Does a real man possess this much size … Then how does it goes inside of any woman !! 
Screen : model 
Model started jumping on him putting the thing in !! Screaming 
Padma : What !!! How come that go such easily!!! 
Johny : Shouting like a beast come on !!
Model : she was moaning like she is singing 
NEW ANGLE

He has her on her back now. One of her legs hooked over his shoulder. He drives into her hard. The sound is wet and heavy — gach gach gach — slapping, skin, breath.

The model’s moans turn into that singing sound again. She is gone.

PADMA

(watching, voice small)

…it’s a new world.

Her hand slides down. Over her pants. She presses her crotch, rubbing slowly through the fabric. She is already wet. She keeps watching.

ON SCREEN

He pulls out at the last second. Thick ropes of cum hit the model’s face. She stays still, mouth open, taking it.

PADMA

freezes.

She puts the phone down on the bed. Raises her own hand to her face. Rubs her cheek and mouth slowly, as if wiping the same thing off herself. Eyes half-closed.

Then she picks the phone up again. Closes the site.

Opens another folder. Johny’s pictures.

Close-ups. His nude body. The lines of his chest and stomach. The bald head. Those blue eyes looking straight at the camera.

PADMA

(barely breathing)

…those eyes.

She stares. Chest rising faster. She can’t look away.

Finally she locks the phone. Places it face-down.
She gets off the bed and walks to the bathroom. Door closes. She standing in the bathroom .Padma stands in front of the mirror. Heavy breathing. Chest rising fast. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She hooks her thumbs into the waistband. Drags her pants and panty down together — only to her knees. The fabric bunches there.

She turns, sits on the commode basin. Legs slightly open. She leans forward a little, looking down at herself. Peeping. Watching.

PADMA

(whisper)

…what am I doing…

Her right hand goes between her legs. One finger finds her. She is already wet. She starts moving it slowly.

She closes her eyes.

FLASH — MEMORY

Johnny’s nude body. Bald head. Those blue eyes looking at her.

PADMA

(breathing out)

Johnny…

The finger moves a little faster.

FLASH — RAJAN
Rajan’s face close. His hands on her. The same way the man in the video held the model. One of her legs over his shoulder. Hard. That gach gach sound in her head.
She suddenly got conscious and got up and washed her P and washed her face and went to bed for a Nap!!!
Johnny is on top of her. Bald head. Blue eyes locked on her face. One of her legs over his shoulder. He is inside her, driving hard. Wet slapping sound — gach gach gach.

PADMA

(moaning, almost singing)

Johnny pulls out at the last second. He strokes himself over her face.

JOHNNY

Open. Look at me. Take it on that pretty face.

PADMA

(moaning, eyes half-open)

He comes. Thick ropes hit her cheeks, mouth, forehead. She stays still, lips parted, taking it.
Padma’s eyes open suddenly.

She sits up fast. Frown on her face. Breathing sharp. Fear in her eyes — like she just came back from something she should not have seen, or should not have wanted.

She looks at her hand. It is on her cheek. She pulls it away as if it burned.

Looks at the phone on the bed. Does not touch it.

PADMA

(whisper, scared)

…what was that…

She wipes her face with her palm, hard. Then both hands. Like she is still trying to get something off her skin.

She sits on the edge of the bed. Pants still on. Head down. Shoulders tight.
Silence. She walks to bathroom with disbelief 

Padma stands under the shower. Water hot. She washes her face first, then her body, longer than usual between her legs. Eyes open. Still frowning a little.

She does not close her eyes. She does not let the dream come back.

She turns the water off. Dries quickly. Gets dressed.

INT. KITCHEN 

She makes coffee. One cup. Sits at the small table. Phone is in the other room. She left it there on purpose.

She drinks slowly. Hands around the mug. Staring at nothing.

The house is quiet.

She keeps looking toward the door.

PADMA

(soft, to herself)

Mohan will be home soon…

She takes another sip. Waits.

She does not check the phone. She does not go back to the bedroom.
She just sits there with the coffee, waiting for her husband.

[sharath841]

Mohan stepped inside, placing his laptop bag near the sofa.
? Mohan: “Hey… you seem unusually quiet.”
Padma offered a faint smile, trying to hide the tangled thoughts that had occupied her all afternoon.
? Padma: “Nothing. Just a bit tired.”
He stepped closer, studying her face.
? Mohan: “Did you get any sleep?”
She hesitated for a split second.
? Padma: “A little.”
She turned toward the kitchen before he could notice the warm flush rising on her cheeks. Mohan followed her with a curious smile.
? Mohan: “You look like you’ve been thinking about something all day.”
Padma glanced back over her shoulder.
? Padma: “Maybe I have.”
There was a subtle, unexpected softness in her voice that hadn’t been there that morning. Mohan noticed the shift, but chose not to push.
They settled into their usual evening routine, talking about ordinary things—his workday, dinner, and routine household chores. Yet, every so often, Padma caught herself stealing glances at him. The unsettling afternoon dream, fused with the remnants of last night's confessions, lingered heavily at the back of her mind.
After changing into comfortable clothes, Mohan came into the living room where Padma had prepared two cups of tea.
? Mohan: “So, how was your afternoon really?”
Padma handed him his cup.
? Padma: “Quiet. I rested for a while.”
He smiled, taking a warm sip.
? Mohan: “You really needed it.”
She sat beside him on the sofa, trying to keep her posture casual. But the memory of her afternoon dream kept her unusually self-conscious.
Mohan caught her staring off into space.
? Mohan: “There’s definitely something on your mind.”
Padma looked at him, then let out a faint, embarrassed laugh.
? Padma: “Nothing important. Just a strange dream.”
? Mohan: “A strange dream? About what?”
She immediately looked away, her eyes fixing on her teacup.
? Padma: “Forget it, Mohan.”
Mohan laughed softly, leaning in a little closer.
? Mohan: “Now you’ve made me curious.”
Padma shook her head firmly.
? Padma: “No. I’m definitely not telling you.”
She stood up quickly and took her cup toward the kitchen counter, pretending to focus on dinner prep. Inside, her thoughts were spinning: Why is that foolish dream still affecting me like this? She took a slow, deep breath, forcing herself to push the lingering images away. Tonight, she resolved, she would simply be Mohan’s wife. Nothing more.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. They ate dinner together, and for a short while, the suffocating tension of the past few days seemed to fade.
While clearing the table, Mohan looked at her teasingly.
? Mohan: “You’ve still barely said ten words tonight.”
? Padma: “I told you, I’m just tired.”
? Mohan: “Or maybe that mysterious dream was far more interesting than you’re letting on.”
Padma shot him an embarrassed, mock-stern look.
? Padma: “Mohan! I already told you—it was nothing!”
He chuckled and held up his hands in surrender.
? Mohan: “Okay, okay. I won’t ask.”
Padma smiled despite herself, feeling a brief, comforting flicker of normalcy return between them.
Then, her phone vibrated sharply on the wooden dining table.
Her smile vanished.
Padma glanced down at the screen.
? Rajan: “Hope you had an interesting afternoon.”
Padma stared at the text, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. She didn't understand what he meant—was he referencing her dream, or was he just playing another psychological mind game?
She quickly locked the screen and turned the phone face down.
Mohan saw the color drain from her face.
? Mohan: “Was that Rajan?”
Padma nodded slowly.
? Padma: “Yes.”
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the room once again. The fragile peace was instantly shattered, replaced by the same dread that had haunted them the night before. But this time, beneath the fear, a new and sharper question began to form in Padma’s mind: How much of this is Rajan watching us... and how much of it is my own mind giving him power?

Padma kept the phone face down on the wooden table, her knuckles white against the dark glass.
Mohan’s eyes narrowed as he leaned across the sofa, his voice dropping into a tense, hushed murmur.
? Mohan: “Wait. Why would he say afternoon?”
Padma avoided his gaze, her chest rising and falling beneath her loose cotton top as her skin flushed with a sudden, restless warmth.
? Padma: “I don’t know, Mohan. Maybe he’s just throwing out words to scare us.”
? Mohan: “Padma… did you talk to him today while I was at the office?”
? Padma: “No!”
? Mohan: “Did you text him? Did he call you?”
She shook her head, her long dark hair swaying loose against her shoulders.
? Padma: “No, Mohan! I didn’t touch my phone all afternoon. Nothing happened!”
Mohan’s gaze lingered on her, tracing the sudden, flustered tightness in her posture. He wasn't convinced. The faint softness she had shown earlier—the quiet, self-conscious smile she had worn when talking about her "strange dream"—suddenly took on a far darker, more provocative weight in his mind.
? Mohan: “Then why that specific word, Padma? Why afternoon?”
Padma turned her face away, a sharp edge of defensiveness rising in her voice to mask the heat burning in her cheeks.
? Padma: “I don’t know! He’s playing mind games! Don’t turn every single word into some dirty mystery!”
Mohan fell silent, the tension between them growing thick, electric, and heavy with unspoken suspicion.
Bzzzz.
The sudden vibration of the phone on the table felt like a physical shock. Both of them froze, their eyes locking onto the glowing screen.
Slowly, with a trembling hand, Padma picked it up.
? Rajan: “You don’t have to tell Mohan everything, Padma. Some thoughts and dreams are better kept with you only like Sati Savitri .”
The breath caught in Padma’s throat. A wave of cold prickles washed over her skin, immediately followed by an intense, humiliating heat that pooled deep in her chest.
Mohan leaned over her shoulder, his eyes scanning the glowing text. His jaw tightened as he looked directly into her wide, panicked eyes.
? Mohan: “What thoughts, Padma? What is he talking about?”
Padma couldn't speak. In that suffocating second, the vivid, forbidden images of her afternoon dream—the lingering echoes of Rajan’s voice, the crude fantasies Mohan had confessed, and the shameful way her own body had responded—flooded her mind all at once.
She slammed the phone face down, clutching it tight against her chest as if trying to physically lock her secrets inside.
? Padma: “I… I don’t know what he’s talking about, Mohan. He’s lying!”
Mohan stared at her, his expression a turbulent mix of hurt, jealousy, and burning curiosity. For the first time, he didn't believe her denial. He could see the guilt written in the curve of her throat, the rapid pulse at her collarbone, and the undeniable flush of a woman caught in a secret thought.
And as the quiet of the room settled over them, a far more terrifying, intoxicating question took root in the dark:

How could Rajan possibly know what Padma had been thinking about that afternoon?

Mohan: “Padma… think carefully. Did anything happen this afternoon that you haven’t told me?”
Padma’s face became tense.
? Padma: “No. I was at home. I had lunch, did some work, and took a nap. That’s all.”
She deliberately left out the dream and her private curiosity, not because she wanted to deceive him, but because she felt too embarrassed to explain it.
Mohan noticed her hesitation.
? Mohan: “You’re hiding something.”
? Padma: “I’m not hiding anything important.”
Before he could respond, his own phone vibrated.
He picked it up.
A message from Rajan.
? Rajan: “Mohan, don’t ask her questions she isn’t ready to answer.”
Mohan’s expression hardened.
He immediately looked at Padma.
? Mohan: “He’s doing this deliberately.”
Padma swallowed.
? Padma: “Maybe he just wants us to fight.”

Padma’s phone vibrated again, the sharp buzz slicing through the heavy air of the living room.
She looked down at the screen.
? Rajan: “Don’t worry, Padma. I won’t tell Mohan what you were curious about today.”
The color drained from her face instantly. Her heart leaped into her throat, sending a sudden, prickling wave of heat straight to her cheeks.
Before she could press the power button to lock the screen, Mohan’s hand reached out, swift and firm, pulling the phone right out of her trembling fingers.
? Padma: “Mohan… wait—”
He ignored her plea, his eyes scanning the new message. His jaw tightened as he looked up, his gaze locking onto her flushed face.
? Mohan: “What was he talking about, Padma? What were you curious about?”
Padma lowered her eyes, unable to meet the burning intensity in his gaze. Her silence was a quiet confession in itself.
Without a word, Mohan tapped the browser icon on her phone and pulled up the recent search history. His thumb scrolled slowly down the screen.
Suddenly, his thumb froze.
The silence between them stretched paper-thin, heavy with an electric, suffocating tension. The color shifted in Mohan’s face as he stared at the exact words listed in her private search logs—the explicit adult search terms, the names of famous porn stars, and the crude, forbidden phrases he had confessed to her the night before.
He slowly looked up at his wife. The traditional, shy, soft-spoken woman sitting beside him was sitting with her shoulders curled inward, her hands tucked tightly in her lap, her whole body radiating a deep, helpless embarrassment.
? Mohan: “Padma… you searched for all this?”
Her chest rose and fell in a fast, shallow rhythm beneath her cotton top. She gave a single, tiny nod.
? Padma: “Yes…”
There was no anger or defiance in her voice—only the quiet, burning shame of being exposed.
Mohan sat completely still for a moment, his mind churning as he tried to reconcile the modest woman he knew with the forbidden curiosity now sitting open on the screen between them.
? Mohan: “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Padma finally raised her eyes, her dark gaze wide and glossy with unshed tears.
? Padma: “Because I was embarrassed, Mohan… I’ve never looked up things like that in my life.”
She looked down again, her fingers twisting the fabric of her casual trousers.
Padma remained silent for a long beat, her breath coming in soft, uneven hitches. Then, she hesitantly looked back at him, her voice barely above a whisper.
? Padma: “There was… something else.”
? Mohan: “What else?”
She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her neck flushed dark with warmth.
? Padma: “I had a dream this afternoon.”
Mohan stared at her, slightly puzzled.
? Mohan: “A dream?”
She nodded, her voice tight with humiliation.
? Padma: “After I searched those things… I fell asleep. I dreamed about… about him. Not really him, maybe. My mind was just mixing up everything you told me, everything I read, and… him.”
Mohan listened, but he didn't take the dream seriously. To him, dreams were just random firings of a tired brain.
? Mohan: “Padma, a dream isn’t something Rajan could possibly know. You didn’t tell anyone about it.”
? Padma: “I know,” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “That’s why I’m frightened. How did he send that message right after I woke up?”
Mohan sat back on the sofa, his brow furrowed deeply as a cold realization began to take shape in his head.
? Mohan: “Maybe he isn't reading your mind, Padma. Maybe he’s getting information from somewhere else.”
? Padma: “What do you mean?”
? Mohan: “I don’t know yet… I’m just thinking of the possibilities.”
Eventually, unable to find an answer in the dark, they switched off the living room lights and went to bed.
While Padma lay under the sheet, turning restlessly and wondering how Rajan could somehow sense her innermost thoughts, Mohan lay awake beside her in the dark. He stared up at the shadowy ceiling, his mind locked on one terrifying, undeniable possibility:
What if Rajan hadn't read her mind at all... but had full, real-time access to her phone's search logs, browser data, and screen history?

[couples2k9]

Pls update really eager to waiting...whar a narration superb ...

[sharath841]

Thank you

[sharath841]

---

The next morning, Mohan woke earlier than usual.
For several minutes, he lay still, staring up at the ceiling.
Rajan knowing about the search query was disturbing enough. But if he actually had access to one of their devices, the problem was no longer just about awkward messages—it was an active intrusion into their private lives.
Padma was already awake, sitting quietly at the edge of the bed, her shoulders tense.
? Padma: “You didn’t sleep properly, did you?”
? Mohan: “Not really.”
She turned to face him, her eyes searching his.
? Padma: “Because of Rajan?”
? Mohan: “Because of how he knew.”
Padma lowered her eyes, tracing the pattern on the bedsheet.
? Padma: “Maybe he was just guessing… pushing his luck?”
Mohan shook his head slowly.
? Mohan: “The timing was too precise. That wasn’t a guess.”
He got ready for work in silence, but he didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he pulled out his laptop and opened it on the dining table.
Padma stood behind him, watching over his shoulder.
? Padma: “What are you checking?”
? Mohan: “Everything I can think of.”
His fingers moved across the trackpad. He checked recently installed applications, browser extensions, account activity, connected devices and other obvious settings.
Nothing immediately stood out.
He frowned and leaned back.
? Padma: “Did you find anything?”
? Mohan: “No. Nothing obvious.”
A heavy pause hung in the air.
? Padma: “Then… maybe we’re just being paranoid?”
Mohan looked at her.
? Mohan: “I really hope we are.”
He closed the laptop with a soft snap. But before sliding it into his bag, his eyes lingered on the dark, reflective screen.
Something in his gut still refused to settle.
https://ibb.co/PZT5g06J
Bzzzt.
His phone vibrated against the wooden tabletop.
Both of them froze.
Mohan reached out and turned the screen toward them.
? Rajan: “Good morning.”
Nothing more.
Padma stared at the two simple words as if they were a threat.
? Padma: “That’s it?”
? Mohan: “For now.”
Before he could put the phone down, another notification appeared.
? Rajan: “Don’t worry. I’m not going to disturb you today.”
Mohan stared at the lit screen, his voice dropping to a whisper.
? Mohan: “How does he always know when we’re talking about him?”
Padma didn’t answer.
She couldn’t.
Mohan set the phone face down.
? Mohan: “I’m heading to the office. Don’t reply to him. Not a single word.”
? Padma: “Okay.”
He walked toward the front door, key in hand.
Then he paused and looked back at her pale face.
? Mohan: “And Padma…”
She looked up.
? Mohan: “Don’t blame yourself for yesterday.”
Her expression softened slightly.
? Padma: “I’m not.”
The door opened and clicked shut.
The apartment fell into a heavy, unnatural silence.
Padma remained near the entryway for a long moment, listening to the fading echo of Mohan’s footsteps down the corridor.
Slowly, she walked back into the living room and checked her phone.
No new notification.
For the first time, a dark thought crossed her mind—one she had deliberately pushed away until now.
What if Rajan wasn’t just watching them from afar?
What if he was somehow already inside their private space?
She physically recoiled from the thought and shook her head.
? Padma: “No… that’s impossible.”
She placed the phone face down on the table, as though putting some distance between herself and the screen might make the thought disappear.
Yet somewhere in the quiet apartment, something continued running softly—unseen, undetected, and completely uninterrupted.

The rest of the morning dragged on with unsettling quiet.
Padma forced herself into routine—wiping counters, organizing drawers, folding clothes, trying to anchor herself in ordinary chores.
But her mind kept looping back to the same question.
How did he know?
She picked up her phone three times, checked the blank lock screen, and put it back down.
Around noon, she poured herself a cup of tea and sat at the dining table.
Her thoughts drifted back to the previous afternoon—the search query, the embarrassment, the strange dream, and then Rajan’s immediate message.
She covered her face with her hands and whispered into the empty room.
? Padma: “He couldn’t possibly know about the dream…”
Bzzzt.
The vibration made her jump.
A little tea spilled onto the table.
She grabbed the phone.
A system update notification.
Nothing more.
Padma released a long, shaky breath and wiped the spill with a napkin.
That’s when her eyes caught something on the table.
Mohan’s laptop charger.
It was still coiled beside the power outlet. He had packed his laptop in a hurry that morning but left the charger behind.
She remembered his words:
“I’m going to check properly tonight.”
Her phone buzzed again.
This time, the preview on the lock screen made her heart stop.
? Rajan: “You look worried today.”
Padma stared at the message.
Her throat went dry.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
She opened the chat and began typing a furious reply.
? Padma: “What do you want from us?”
Her finger hovered over the send button.
Then she remembered Mohan’s warning.
Don’t reply to him.
She quickly deleted the entire message.
A second later, before her screen had even timed out, another message appeared.
? Rajan: “Good. Don’t reply.”
Padma froze.
Her hand tightened around the phone.
The message didn’t prove how he knew.
But somehow, it made the apartment feel smaller.
A final message appeared.
? Rajan: “Some questions are better answered by observing than by asking.”
Padma locked the phone immediately.
She stood up so quickly that the chair scbangd loudly against the tile.
She walked toward the balcony and slid the glass door open.
Outside, the city continued with its ordinary afternoon chaos.
Traffic crawled along the main road. Delivery drivers wove through the lanes. Somewhere across the complex, a pressure cooker whistled.
Everything looked normal.
Yet standing there, Padma couldn’t shake the chilling feeling that the walls of her own home no longer felt solid.

Meanwhile, at his desk in the office, Mohan stared blankly at his monitor.
His phone lit up.
A message from Padma.
? Padma: “Did you find anything on the laptop this morning? Anything at all?”
He paused before replying.
? Mohan: “Nothing obvious. Everything looked normal.”
A few seconds passed.
? Padma: “Then how does he know everything we do?”
Mohan sat rigid in his chair.
He typed slowly.
? Mohan: “I’m going to run a deeper diagnostic tonight. Network activity, connected devices, account access—everything.”
Then he added:
? Mohan: “Until then, don’t engage with him. Keep your phone with you, but don’t answer anything from him.”
? Padma: “Okay.”
Mohan locked his phone and placed it beside his keyboard.
He leaned back and rested his chin against his hand.
The basic checks that morning had shown nothing.
That bothered him more than if he’d found something obvious.
If Rajan really had access somehow, the evidence might be buried somewhere much deeper than anything Mohan had checked.
He looked at the wall clock.
There were still five hours left in his workday.
Five hours before he could get home.
Five hours during which Padma would be alone in the apartment, surrounded by devices that suddenly no longer felt entirely trustworthy.
And for the first time, Mohan found himself wondering whether the answer he was looking for might already be sitting somewhere inside their home—quietly waiting for him to find it.
PADMA thinking how Rajan knows what I do : 
 
This is how she searched Johnny..
https://ibb.co/3mGhsMGq 

[sharath841]

The clock had barely moved past five when Mohan finally left his office.
Throughout the afternoon, he had tried to concentrate on work, but the same thought kept returning.
If Rajan really had access to something… how?
By the time he reached home, his mind was already running through possibilities.
Padma opened the door before he could knock twice.
She looked relieved to see him.
? Padma: “You’re back.”
? Mohan: “You okay?”
She hesitated.
? Padma: “Rajan messaged again.”
Mohan’s expression immediately changed.
? Mohan: “What did he say?”
Padma handed him her phone.
He read the messages from earlier.
Then she quietly explained what had happened.
? Padma: “I started typing a reply. I didn’t send it. I deleted everything.”
? Mohan: “And then?”
? Padma: “He said, ‘Good. Don’t reply.’”
Mohan stared at the screen.
? Mohan: “You hadn’t sent anything?”
? Padma: “No.”
Silence.
Mohan handed the phone back.
? Mohan: “Okay. Now I’m sure something isn’t right.”
Padma’s face tightened.
? Padma: “Can someone really see what we’re doing?”
? Mohan: “I don’t know yet.”
He put his office bag down.
? Mohan: “But tonight I’m going to find out what I can.”

A few minutes later, Mohan opened his laptop at the dining table.
Padma sat beside him.
This time, he didn’t simply glance through the settings.
He carefully went through the device’s activity, account sessions, connected devices and network information.
Several minutes passed.
Nothing.
Then Mohan stopped.
His eyes narrowed.
? Padma: “What?”
? Mohan: “Wait.”
He looked at the screen again.
There was a recent connection that he didn’t immediately recognize.
It wasn’t enough to prove anything.
It could have been a normal background connection.
Or a device he had simply forgotten about.
But the timing bothered him.
? Padma: “Is that him?”
? Mohan: “I don’t know.”
? Padma: “Then what does it mean?”
? Mohan: “It means I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
He took a photograph of the screen with his phone.
Padma watched him carefully.
? Padma: “You’re keeping evidence?”
? Mohan: “Yes.”
He continued checking.
Then something else caught his attention.
The laptop’s recent activity showed that it had been active during a period when he distinctly remembered leaving it alone.
Mohan leaned back.
? Mohan: “That’s strange.”
? Padma: “What?”
? Mohan: “This laptop was active last night.”
Padma frowned.
? Padma: “But you closed it.”
? Mohan: “Exactly.”
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Mohan slowly closed the lid.
Not completely.
Just enough to leave the screen dark.
? Padma: “What are you thinking?”
? Mohan: “I’m thinking we shouldn’t change anything yet.”
She looked confused.
? Padma: “Why?”
? Mohan: “Because if something is actually happening, I don’t want to erase whatever evidence is there.”
Padma swallowed.
? Padma: “You really think someone could be getting into it?”
? Mohan: “I think we have enough strange things happening that I don’t want to dismiss them anymore.”

That evening passed unusually quietly.
There were no messages from Rajan.
No calls.
No teasing.
Nothing.
Padma kept checking her phone.
Nothing.
She eventually placed it on the table.
? Padma: “He’s quiet.”
? Mohan: “That’s probably a good thing.”
? Padma: “Somehow it doesn’t feel like one.”
Mohan looked at her.
She was right.
After everything Rajan had done, his silence felt less like absence and more like waiting.
They had dinner without discussing him.
Later, Mohan returned to the laptop.
He didn’t open everything again.
He simply checked the time and looked at the device.
Then he unplugged the charger from the wall.
He stared at the charger for a moment.
Earlier that morning, he had left it behind while taking the laptop to work.
Now he wondered whether that small detail mattered.
He said nothing.

Around eleven, Padma changed into her nightwear and switched off the bedroom light.
Mohan remained awake for a while.
? Padma: “Are you coming?”
? Mohan: “In a minute.”
He looked once more toward the dining table.
The laptop sat there quietly.
Exactly where he had left it.
He finally walked into the bedroom.
Padma pulled the blanket up and turned toward him.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then—
Bzzzt.
Padma’s phone vibrated on the bedside table.
Both of them looked at it.
Mohan reached for the phone.
One message.
? Rajan: “Good night, Padma.”
Mohan’s eyes immediately moved to the clock.
11:47 PM.
Padma stared at him.
? Padma: “I didn’t message him.”
? Mohan: “I know.”
He looked toward the bedroom door.
Then toward the dark hallway beyond it.
Nothing moved.
Everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Mohan slowly placed the phone back on the table.
? Mohan: “Don’t reply.”
Padma nodded.
But neither of them closed their eyes.
Because for the first time, they weren’t wondering whether Rajan was watching.
They were wondering where he was watching from.

[sharath841]

[img=372x559]file:///C:/Users/lenovo/Desktop/pads%201.png[/img]






That afternoon, Padma stepped out of the lift into the apartment lobby, carrying a small shopping bag.
She had dressed casually but looked particularly graceful without trying to. She wore a lightweight chocolate-brown saree with a subtle muted-gold border, paired with a simple matching short-sleeved blouse with delicate detailing around the neckline and sleeves. Her long dark hair was tied into a loose bun, with a few strands naturally falling around her face.
Her makeup was understated—soft kajal around her eyes, a small maroon-brown bindi, and warm terracotta-brown lipstick that complemented the saree. Her mangalsutra rested neatly against the fabric, accompanied by small gold earrings. A small tan handbag hung from her shoulder, and she wore simple low block heels.
She checked something on her phone while walking toward the entrance.https://ibb.co/p69rL3rM
Two men standing near the lift suddenly noticed her.
One of them stepped forward.
? Man 1: “Padma?”
She looked up.
There was polite uncertainty in her eyes.
? Padma: “Yes?”
The two men exchanged a smile.
? Man 1: “You don’t remember us?”
Padma studied their faces.
Nothing immediately clicked.
? Padma: “I’m sorry…”
The other man smiled.
? Man 2: “How could we forget? We gave a ride to a beautiful woman like you that rainy evening.”
Padma’s expression changed.
The broken-down car.
The rain.
The motorcycle.
She looked at them more carefully.
? Padma: “Oh… you two.”
? Man 1: “Now you remember.”
Padma gave a small, guarded smile.
? Padma: “Yes. It was a long time ago.”
She adjusted the strap of her handbag.
Something about their attention made her uncomfortable.
? Padma: “I should go.”
She walked toward the entrance.
Neither man stopped her.
But as Padma disappeared down the corridor, the two men exchanged a brief look.
She had no idea that the brief encounter would soon bring an old chapter of her life back into Mohan’s hands.
By the time Mohan stepped through the door that evening, Padma had already peeled out of her day clothes.
She sat on the sofa in a thin cotton nightie that clung to her tits and sat high on her thighs. One strap kept slipping off her shoulder. She was scrolling her phone, legs folded under her, the fabric riding up so her panties almost showed.
When the lock clicked, she looked up.
? Padma: “You’re home, baby…”
? Mohan: “Mmm. How was your day, sweetheart?”
? Padma: “Quiet. Just me and this empty house.”
He dropped his bag, sat close, and let his hand rest on her bare thigh. For a few minutes they talked about nothing — traffic, dinner, the leaky tap. Neither mentioned Rajan. Neither mentioned the afternoon.
Padma didn’t tell him about the two men near the lift who had looked at her like they already knew how she tasted.
Mohan didn’t ask.
The apartment almost felt normal again.
Then his phone buzzed.
He glanced down.
A message from Rajan.
? Rajan:
“Open the old apartment WhatsApp group.”
Mohan’s jaw tightened.
Padma noticed.
? Padma: “Rajan again?”
He nodded.
Another ping.
? Rajan:
“Don’t look at today. Scroll back. Way back.”
Mohan opened WhatsApp. The old group was buried under years of chats. He tapped it.
Padma shifted closer, her nightie riding higher. Her warm thigh pressed against his.
? Padma: “What is it?”
? Mohan: “He wants me to look at the old group.”
He started scrolling backward.
First it was boring apartment shit — maintenance, parking, water cuts, the lift.
Then the tone changed.
A photo appeared.
Padma stopped breathing.
It was her.
Walking down the corridor in a tight kurti, ass swaying, completely unaware someone was shooting her from behind.
Mohan scrolled.
Another photo.
Then another.
Different days.





[img=372x559]file:///C:/Users/lenovo/Desktop/pads%202.png[/img]





Different angles.
Her walking to the lift.
.

Padma didn’t tell him about the two men near the lift who had looked at her like they already knew how she tasted.
Mohan didn’t ask.

Walking down the corridor in a tight kurti, ass swaying, completely unaware someone was shooting her from behind.
Mohan scrolled.
Another photo.
Then another.
Different days.
Old pics of her :
https://ibb.co/rKbRNd3H
https://ibb.co/QjD1n1Ss

Standing at the entrance with her handbag.
The way her saree clung to her hips after rain.
The shape of her breasts when she bent to pick something up.
Padma stared at the screen, lips slightly parted.
? Padma: “Mohan…”
He didn’t answer.
She leaned in and started reading the comments under the pictures.
The men hadn’t just been watching her.
They had been talking about her like meat.
[img=373x559]file:///C:/Users/lenovo/Desktop/padbu.png[/img]




“Look at that fat ass in the corridor .. How would her ass smell ? 
Another I want to put my face on her ass!! 
Another .. what a bombass is that I want to bite and grab it 
“Those heavy tits bouncing when she walks…”
Man  1 : “I’d bend that married bitch over right there by the lift…and screw her holes ”
Man2 : How would give expression and moan while screwing her!! 
“Wonder if her husband even fucks her properly…”
Another this is not just for fucking .. this one is slowly made love like slow kissing.. slow biting slow grabbing and slow pumping she should sing not moan!!!
“That wet saree on the rainy night… nipples poking, pussy probably dripping…”
Padma’s breathing changed. Horror mixed with something hotter and dirtier she didn’t want to admit.
? Padma: “These… these are from here? From our building?”
? Mohan: “Yes.”
She looked at him, eyes wide.
? Padma: “How long have they been doing this?”
Mohan swallowed.
? Mohan: “I don’t know.”
She kept scrolling, thumb trembling.
Then she froze.
The rainy evening photo.
Her heart dropped and her cunt clenched at the same time.
The motorcycle.
Her soaked saree stuck to her body.
Those same two men.
She turned to Mohan, voice shaking.
? Padma: “Those two men…”
? Mohan: “What?”
? Padma: “I saw them today. Near the lift. They called me by my name.”
Mohan’s head snapped toward her.
? Mohan: “What did they say?”
? Padma: “One of them said they gave me a ride that rainy evening. They remembered everything. The way my saree was stuck to my tits… they were looking at me like they already owned me.”
Mohan looked from the photo to his wife.
? Mohan: “You met them today?”
She nodded, voice dropping.
? Padma: “I didn’t recognize them at first. Then they reminded me. I didn’t know they had been photographing me… talking about my body like that…”
Mohan kept scrolling.
More photos.
More filthy comments.
Padma’s face changed with every one. Shame, fear, and a dark heat she couldn’t hide.
She had no idea that ordinary moments — walking home, carrying her bag, standing in the corridor — had been turned into jerk-off material for the men in her building.
She suddenly pulled the phone closer and read another thread.
Her face fell.
? Padma: “They’re talking about me like I’m just a pair of tits and a wet cunt walking around…”
Her voice broke.
Mohan locked the phone.
? Mohan: “Enough. Don’t read anymore.”
Padma shook her head, eyes wet.
? Padma: “No. I want to know how they see me.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, but her nipples were hard under the thin nightie.
? Padma: “I was just walking here. Going home. Going downstairs. And they were staring at my ass, my breasts, imagining bending me over…”
Mohan had no answer.
Padma looked at the old photo of herself again.
? Padma: “I thought this was my home.”
Silence.
Mohan slowly put the phone down.
? Mohan: “Padma…”
She wiped her eyes but couldn’t hide how shaken — and how wet — she was.
? Padma: “And today those same men were standing there… looking at me like they already know what I look like under my clothes.”
She glanced toward the apartment door.
The familiar corridor outside suddenly felt like it had eyes.
Then the phone vibrated again.
Neither of them wanted to look.
Mohan picked it up anyway.
Another message from Rajan.
? Rajan:
“Now you understand why the past still matters.”
Mohan stared at the screen.
Padma looked at him, breathing fast, nightie slipping off one shoulder, thighs pressed together.
Neither of them spoke.
The old group had been sitting quietly in Mohan’s phone for years.
And now it had crawled back into their bedroom — dripping with everything those men had said about her body.
https://ibb.co/p69rL3rM

https://ibb.co/TDbWXTJ3 

The way her saree clung to her hips after rain.[img=372x559]file:///C:/Users/lenovo/Desktop/pads%201.png[/img] The shape of her breasts when she bent to pick something up.
Padma stared at the screen, lips slightly parted.
? Padma: “Mohan…”
He didn’t answer.
She leaned in and started reading the comments under the pictures.
The men hadn’t just been watching her.
They had been talking about her like meat.
“Look at that fat ass in the corridor…”
“Those heavy tits bouncing when she walks…”
“I’d bend that married bitch over right there by the lift…”
“Wonder if her husband even fucks her properly…”
“That wet saree on the rainy night… nipples poking, pussy probably dripping…”
Padma’s breathing changed. Horror mixed with something hotter and dirtier she didn’t want to admit.
? Padma: “These… these are from here? From our building?”
? Mohan: “Yes.”
She looked at him, eyes wide.
? Padma: “How long have they been doing this?”
Mohan swallowed.
? Mohan: “I don’t know.”
She kept scrolling, thumb trembling.
Then she froze.
The rainy evening photo.
Her heart dropped and her cunt clenched at the same time.
The motorcycle.
Her soaked saree stuck to her body.
Those same two men.
She turned to Mohan, voice shaking.
? Padma: “Those two men…”
? Mohan: “What?”
? Padma: “I saw them today. Near the lift. They called me by my name.”
Mohan’s head snapped toward her.
? Mohan: “What did they say?”
? Padma: “One of them said they gave me a ride that rainy evening. They remembered everything. The way my saree was stuck to my tits… they were looking at me like they already owned me.”
Mohan looked from the photo to his wife.
? Mohan: “You met them today?”
She nodded, voice dropping.
? Padma: “I didn’t recognize them at first. Then they reminded me. I didn’t know they had been photographing me… talking about my body like that…”
Mohan kept scrolling.
More photos.
More filthy comments.
Padma’s face changed with every one. Shame, fear, and a dark heat she couldn’t hide.
She had no idea that ordinary moments — walking home, carrying her bag, standing in the corridor — had been turned into jerk-off material for the men in her building.
She suddenly pulled the phone closer and read another thread.
Her face fell.
? Padma: “They’re talking about me like I’m just a pair of tits and a wet cunt walking around…”
Her voice broke.
Mohan locked the phone.
? Mohan: “Enough. Don’t read anymore.”
Padma shook her head, eyes wet.
? Padma: “No. I want to know how they see me.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, but her nipples were hard under the thin nightie.
? Padma: “I was just walking here. Going home. Going downstairs. And they were staring at my ass, my breasts, imagining bending me over…”
Mohan had no answer.
Padma looked at the old photo of herself again.
? Padma: “I thought this was my home.”
Silence.
Mohan slowly put the phone down.
? Mohan: “Padma…”
She wiped her eyes but couldn’t hide how shaken — and how wet — she was.
? Padma: “And today those same men were standing there… looking at me like they already know what I look like under my clothes.”
She glanced toward the apartment door.
The familiar corridor outside suddenly felt like it had eyes.
Then the phone vibrated again.
Neither of them wanted to look.
Mohan picked it up anyway.
Another message from Rajan.
? Rajan:
“Now you understand why the past still matters.”
Mohan stared at the screen.
Padma looked at him, breathing fast, nightie slipping off one shoulder, thighs pressed together.
Neither of them spoke.
The old group had been sitting quietly in Mohan’s phone for years.
And now it had crawled back into their bedroom — dripping with everything those men had said about her body.
At night Padma didn’t get sleep she started crying and she went to bathroom and started crying with tears Why it’s happening to me.. why people treat me like a thing… on the other hand Mohan also not sleeping blaming himself and she washes her face and comes to bed and tries to sleep after an hour she gets the sleep. 

[sharath841]

The apartment was quiet that night.
Padma had finally fallen asleep after crying for nearly an hour.
Mohan remained awake.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
The words from the WhatsApp group kept returning to him.
He knew Padma’s tears weren’t only because of those men.
They were also because of him.
He had been part of that world once.
He had looked at her through the same distorted lens.
And now she had seen what that world looked like from the other side.
Across the city, Rajan was equally quiet.
He didn’t send another message.
He didn’t call Mohan.
Instead, the following morning, he went directly to the apartment security desk.
Vinay was there.
? Vinay: “Good morning, sir.”
Rajan looked toward him.
? Rajan: “That old WhatsApp group for the residents—who created it?”
Vinay hesitated.
? Vinay: “Some residents started it years ago. Why?”
Rajan’s expression was unusually serious.
? Rajan: “I want it shut down.”
Vinay looked surprised.
? Vinay: “The group?”
? Rajan: “Yes. And if another group is created for the same purpose, I want to know.”
Vinay didn’t immediately understand.
? Vinay: “Is there some problem?”
Rajan looked toward the lifts.
? Rajan: “There has been a problem for a long time.”
He paused.
? Rajan: “And it should have been stopped earlier.”
Vinay nodded slowly.
Rajan didn’t explain further.
He simply walked away.

Meanwhile, Mohan was dealing with a different problem.
He opened the laptop.
This time he wasn’t searching casually.
He went through the accounts connected to it, changed passwords, removed unfamiliar sessions, checked account recovery details and disconnected devices he didn’t recognize.
Then he looked at the phone.
The same process.
Email.
Cloud storage.
Messaging accounts.
Everything.
He wanted to make sure Rajan could no longer reach anything connected to their home.
He also made a list of every device in the apartment.
? Mohan: “Laptop first. Then the router. Then every account.”
Padma sat quietly across from him.
She watched him work.
? Padma: “Do you think he’ll still be able to see anything?”
Mohan stopped.
? Mohan: “I don’t know.”
He looked at her.
? Mohan: “But I’m going to make sure he can’t.”
Padma nodded.
For once, Mohan wasn’t asking her to trust him blindly.
He was trying to earn that trust back.

Later that afternoon, Padma went downstairs.
She noticed the security desk.
Vinay was speaking with another resident.
She didn’t know what they were discussing.
She simply walked past.

The old WhatsApp group was no longer active.
Messages had stopped.
No new photographs.
No new comments.
Nothing.

The next few days were unusually quiet.
Rajan had stopped messaging Padma.
He had stopped sending Mohan cryptic instructions.
Even the old apartment group had gone silent.
But Rajan himself wasn’t at peace.
For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about how to get closer to Padma.
He was thinking about what he had done to her.
He remembered her face when she had discovered the photographs.
He remembered the fear in her eyes.
And most of all, he remembered that she had once looked at him without fear.
That realization troubled him.
? Rajan: “What did I turn this into?”
He had wanted her attention for years.
But now that he had it, it had come mixed with fear and humiliation.
He didn’t like what he saw in himself.

A few days later, Padma was walking through the apartment lobby on her way outside.
She turned a corner—
—and suddenly came face-to-face with Rajan.
Both stopped.
For a second, neither spoke.
Padma expected him to say something.
A teasing remark.
A compliment.
Perhaps another cryptic sentence.
Instead, Rajan simply lowered his eyes.
He stepped aside.
He didn’t even try to stop her.
Padma walked past him.
After a few steps, she glanced back.
Rajan was still standing there.
His head remained lowered.
He didn’t call her name.
He didn’t follow.
Padma was surprised.
And strangely relieved.
She continued walking.
Behind her, Rajan finally looked up.
He watched her from a distance for a few seconds before turning away.
He knew even that was something he needed to control.
But he wasn’t quite there yet.

The Apartment Festival
That weekend, the apartment association announced a festival celebration.
The entire lobby and courtyard were decorated.
String lights were hung across the entrance.
Flower garlands surrounded the lifts.
A small stage was arranged near the courtyard.
Families began gathering in the evening.
Children ran around with their parents.
Neighbours who usually only exchanged brief greetings were suddenly talking and laughing together.
Padma arrived with Mohan.
She wore a simple traditional outfit, her mangalsutra visible, her hair neatly arranged.
For the first time in several days, she seemed relaxed.
Mohan noticed.
? Mohan: “You look happier today.”
Padma smiled faintly.
? Padma: “Maybe I needed something normal.”
They walked into the crowd.
Across the courtyard, Rajan was already there.

The next few days were unusually quiet.

Rajan had stopped messaging Padma.

He had stopped sending Mohan cryptic instructions.

Even the old apartment group had gone silent.

But Rajan himself wasn’t at peace.

For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about how to get closer to Padma.

He was thinking about what he had done to her.

He remembered her face when she had discovered the photographs.

He remembered the fear in her eyes.

And most of all, he remembered that she had once looked at him without fear.

That realization troubled him.

? Rajan: “What did I turn this into?”

He had wanted her attention for years.

But now that he had it, it had come mixed with fear and humiliation.

He didn’t like what he saw in himself.

⸻

A few days later, Padma was walking through the apartment lobby on her way outside.

She turned a corner—

—and suddenly came face-to-face with Rajan.

Both stopped.

For a second, neither spoke.

Padma expected him to say something.

A teasing remark.

A compliment.

Perhaps another cryptic sentence.

Instead, Rajan simply lowered his eyes.

He stepped aside.

He didn’t even try to stop her.

Padma walked past him.

After a few steps, she glanced back.

Rajan was still standing there.

His head remained lowered.

He didn’t call her name.

He didn’t follow.

Padma was surprised.

And strangely relieved.

She continued walking.

Behind her, Rajan finally looked up.

He watched her from a distance for a few seconds before turning away.

He knew even that was something he needed to control.

But he wasn’t quite there yet.
Then comes a apartment function : 

The festival grew livelier as the evening progressed.

The courtyard was filled with lights, music and the smell of freshly prepared food. Children ran between the families, older residents sat together chatting, and everyone seemed to have forgotten the tension that usually existed inside the apartment complex.
Padma came wearing Orange reddish skill saree with green blouse she was looking like a queen of the town even Mohan couldn’t be holding.. he was whispering her baby can’t hold back I want to hug you and kiss you .. this saree fits so nice to you … Even women can’t hold back they were feeling jealous of her.. Every men used to look at her stare at her… Vinay thought of taking her pic then he feared Rajan..

Padma stood beside Mohan, watching everything with a small smile.

For the first time in days, she didn’t feel the need to constantly look over her shoulder.

Then she noticed Rajan.

He was standing on the other side of the courtyard.

He saw her too.

Their eyes met briefly.

Padma expected him to come over.
https://ibb.co/bgHgxymB 


He didn’t.

Instead, he gave her a faint nod and looked away.

A few minutes later, Rajan walked toward Mohan.

? Rajan: “Mohan! Finally, you’re looking less serious.”

Mohan smiled cautiously.

? Mohan: “Festival mood.”

Rajan laughed and placed a friendly hand briefly on Mohan’s shoulder.

? Rajan: “Exactly. Tonight no work, no problems. Just enjoy.”

Their conversation was surprisingly normal.

They spoke about the apartment, the decorations, the food and some ordinary things.

Padma watched from beside them.

Rajan glanced toward her.

? Rajan: “Hi, Padma.”

? Padma: “Hi.”

That was all.

No compliment.

No teasing.

No uncomfortable remark.

Rajan smiled politely.

? Rajan: “Enjoy the evening.”

Then he turned back to Mohan for another moment before eventually excusing himself.

? Rajan: “I’ll see you around.”

And he walked away.

Padma watched him disappear into the crowd.

Mohan noticed.

? Mohan: “What?”

Padma shook her head.

? Padma: “Nothing.”

But there was something different in her expression.



Later, everyone gathered around the food tables.

Sweets were passed around.

People laughed.

Someone started telling an old story about the apartment.

Padma laughed too.

A genuine laugh.

Mohan looked at her and smiled.

? Mohan: “I haven’t seen you laugh like that in a while.”

Padma looked around the courtyard.

The lights.

The music.

The families.

The children.

The ordinary happiness.

She took a sweet from the plate and smiled.
https://ibb.co/F4zHNvf2https://ibb.co/bRd2fp2r





Padma: “I think I finally feel normal again.”

Mohan didn’t say anything.

She looked toward the apartment building.

Then back at the crowd.

For weeks, she had felt as though every corridor had eyes.

Every lift had felt uncomfortable.

Every unknown person had seemed suspicious.

But tonight she was simply Padma.

A wife.

A neighbour.

A woman enjoying an apartment festival with everyone else.

She took a slow breath.

And for the first time, she realized something:

She wasn’t trapped anymore.

Whatever Rajan wanted.

Whatever those men had said.

Whatever had happened in the past—

her life still belonged to her.

Across the courtyard, Rajan happened to glance in her direction.

He saw her laughing with Mohan.

And this time, he didn’t interrupt.

He simply smiled faintly and looked away.

Padma noticed.

And strangely, she didn’t feel watched.
She felt free.

[sharath841]

I will delete all my updates once the original author is ready with his story 

[sharath841]

The lift doors opened.

Mohan and Padma walked into their apartment together.

The moment the door closed behind them, Mohan turned toward her.

Padma barely had time to put down her handbag before he stepped closer and pulled her into a warm, spontaneous hug.

? Padma: “Mohan…”

He smiled and kissed her.

She initially looked surprised, then relaxed into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him.

? Padma: “Slowly… I’m not running anywhere.”
Mohan laughed softly.

He kissed her forehead, then her mouth again, and they disappeared into the bedroom.
The door clicked shut.
Mohan shoved Padma back against it. His mouth was already on hers—wet, open, filthy. He hugged her tight and grabbed both handfuls of her round ass through the silk. She was already in the mood; she melted into him, kissing him back, both of them clinging and cuddling like they had been starving for this all evening.



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He turned her in his arms, hugged her from behind, grabbed her abdomen and pulled her flush against him, kissing her neck. She closed her eyes.


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? Mohan: “Padma… you are cute. You are soft. You are hot. You are divine.”
https://files.catbox.moe/xbau17.mp4
He unwound the orange-red saree. Two hooks of the green blouse came open. She was half-bared now, shining in the night light—fair skin, the swell of her breasts, the dip of  her waist .

1. https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xbecbku

 https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xbecbku put her on the bed and stripped himself completely nude. Then he came over her, hiked the petticoat around her waist, and stared at the thin cotton panty stretched over her pussy. He kissed her right there, on the fabric, over her cunt.

“Look at this,” he muttered, dragging the panties down her thighs with his teeth and fingers. “Walking around the whole society looking like a fucking queen. A cow in heat. The bulls of the society sense her pheromones—sex pheromones, the ones that attract mates, that signal reproductive readiness—and they know which cow is in heat. Now see. Your pussy already wet because of heat.”
The panties hit the floor.
Padma gasped, grabbed his hair, and hid her face with both hands.
? Padma: “Mohan— I’m not a cow in heat… what are you comparing, man… you are always dirty…”
He pulled the petticoat off. She helped him. Then he went for the blouse. She helped with that too. Now both of them were nude.
She was shy.
? Padma: “I’m shy of the light…”
? Mohan: “No. It’s our time.”
He started kissing her legs. She lay there, breathing already changing—haaaa. He worked his way up slowly. She held the bedspread tight and lifted her upper body. He kissed her thighs with wet, smacking sounds. Muahhh. Muahhh.
? Padma: “Ha… no… Mohan… ha…”
He reached the pussy. Shaved completely. Wet. He put two fingers on her and spread her open. The glossy secretion stuck between both walls like a thin slime film over pink flesh. She moaned, breathing heavy.
Then he started kissing her pussy—slow. She grabbed his head. He licked her slow. She made those sounds—haaa, uhhhhhh, hubby… yes… ahhhhh. She bent both legs. Her thighs crushed his face. She leaked. Her gum secretions wet his mouth and the tip of his nose, smeared across him.
He kissed her thighs again and bit one buttery, round, fair thigh.
She screamed.
? Padma: “Aaahhh—”
He wiped his mouth and face with a towel, climbed on her, started smooching her, lifted both her legs and spread them, and put the head of his cock on her pussy.
Her pussy engulfed the tip. He pressed a little, holding himself. It went in easily.
Both of them felt it. So nice.
He started slow. In and out. Hugging, cuddling, kissing. Easy. Gentle.
She started bucking her hips up without thinking—so tempted she lost sense, lifting for more. The angle got uncomfortable. He gave harder strokes.
“You’ve been dripping since the lift. I could smell you in the hallway, Padma. My wife’s pussy leaking through her saree like a cow in heat.”
Her nipples were dark and stiff. He palmed both tits and fucked her in short, brutal strokes that made the bed rattle.
? Mohan: “Take it. Take your husband’s cock like you were made for it. You wore that saree tonight so every bastard would stare and then you came home to get fucked like this. Didn’t you?”
? Padma: “Shut up, Mohan…”
Her nails dug into his shoulders. Her legs locked around his waist. He bit her neck and slammed into her until her voice broke into broken little ah-ah-ah sounds.
After a while he slowed, still inside her, breathing against her ear.
? Mohan: “Baby… I want to love you in another way.” He said it with hesitation.
? Padma: “How?”
? Mohan: “Want to kiss you from behind…”
? Padma: “You did that already.”
? Mohan: “Not like that.”
? Padma: “Then how?”
? Mohan: “I want to love your ass.”
? Padma: “What? No. No chance.”
? Mohan: “Please, baby. Please.”
? Padma: “Why do men love women’s back?”
? Mohan: “That I’ll tell you now. Get up and turn.”
She got up. He turned her, kissed her shoulder, and put both hands on her round, big bum, grabbing it.
He bent her. She came almost onto all fours—crawling pose.
? Padma: “What!!!”
He held her ass with both hands, grabbed it, massaged it, kissed it. She laughed and enjoyed it in spite of herself.
? Mohan: “Wow. What an ass, baby.”
Pumpkin-shaped. In the crack, a small pinkish-black puckered hole surrounded by a few thin hairs. He put a finger on it.
? Padma: “No, baby—shhh… no.”
He put his face near it, smelled it, put his lips there and kissed the crack, holding the cheeks apart.
? Padma: “No. Dirty. No.”
? Mohan: “What dirty?”
He kissed and bit the cheeks, then gave one tight slap. A sharp clap. Loud enough that another house might have heard.
She jerked.
? Padma: “Ouch!!”
She straightened, turned toward him, laughing, rubbing the stinging cheek with her hand.
? Padma: “What? Why did you slap there?”
? Mohan: “Baby, I wanna fuck you like this only.”
? Padma: “No. Never. Do it normal.”
? Mohan: “Let’s try a new one. People call it doggy pose.”
? Padma: “No. I don’t want to try. Leave it.”
? Mohan: “Hey, please. Nothing will happen. Come.”
? Padma: “Okay… but slowly.”
He made her bend. Face in the bed, ass up.
He tried to push in. It wasn’t comfortable at first.
? Mohan: “Ass up, Padma. Lift your ass. Bend your waist like a bow.”
She remembered Johnny Sins clips while he missed the hole a few times, then found it. After a few strokes they adjusted. She started enjoying it more than she expected. The memory of those videos mixed with the real stretch of him.
He started slapping her bum and shouting.
? Mohan: “Padma… yes… how’s it?”
? Padma: “Hoo… ahhhhhh… mmmmm… yes… haaaaaa… ahhhh… hmmmm… ahhhaaaaaaa… yes baby, do it…”
He fucked her like that, one hand in her hair like he was riding.
? Mohan: “Baby, I’m the horse fucking the female horse. Baby, you know how a horse dick is?”
? Padma: “No…”
? Mohan: “Big. Up to a feet.”
? Padma: “What!!! That big?”
? Mohan: “Yes. That big.”
His other hand reached under and rubbed her swollen clit in tight circles. Then he grabbed her boobs and pressed them.
? Mohan: “This is how in porn movies they do.”
She remembered the scene again. She didn’t want to utter a word. She was shy.
Her legs cramped.
They switched to missionary. Still a little uncomfortable at first—kissing, hugging, fucking, both moaning. Festival makeup still on her face. Hair completely disturbed.
He gave it to her harder. The bedframe knocked the wall. When he had her from behind again for a stretch, her ass rippled every time his hips met it. He leaned over her back and spoke into her ear, voice low and dirty.
“I was hard the entire evening watching you laugh with those aunties. I wanted to drag you behind the stage, lift this saree, and breed you where anyone could hear. You’d have let me, wouldn’t you? My respectable wife with her legs open and my cum running down her thighs.”
She pushed back onto him, gasping, greedy—then still tried to deny it.
? Padma: “Hehe… no. I wouldn’t.”
? Mohan: “Then shall I stop?”
? Padma: “No. Don’t stop now. You can do whatever…”
They fucked. He felt it building.
? Mohan: “Baby, I may cum…”
? Padma: “Yes, baby, cum. I’m also going to cum.”
? Mohan: “My beautiful wife Padma. You so cute. So hot. You’re uncontrollable.”
His words and his cock finished her. The first orgasm hit her hard. She clenched around him so tight, then her pussy went loose and wet and he kept giving her shots—chap-chap, filthy wet slaps of skin. Her voice went hoarse.
He fucked her slow and deep, then fast again.
? Mohan: “Look at me while I ruin this cunt. That’s it. Good girl. Take every inch. You’re going to come again on my cock and then I’m going to pump you full.”
? Padma: “Do it—come inside me—I want to feel it leak out of me after—”
? Mohan: “You are my baby love. You are my thing. I want to use you, want to fuck you, want to love you. My filthy queen.”
He lasted until she came a second time—thighs trembling around him, pussy fluttering and soaking his balls. Then he buried himself to the hilt, groaned against her neck, and emptied into her in thick pulses.
He stayed inside after, still twitching. His cum already started leaking around his cock when he finally softened.
He kissed her messy mouth.
He laughed, low, slipped two fingers back into her, scooped his own cum, and pushed it deeper.
“Night’s not over.”
They kept kissing, talking, discussing in the dark—sticky, smiling, still touching.
The rest of the night belonged only to Mohan and Padma.