Adultery Deepa - An innocent Wife and Elder sister and her sacrification

[Suresh@123]

Awesome dp johnny father is that man

Thankyou bro

[Suresh@123]

Raghava (Johnny father) sat alone in the dimly lit study of his house, the humiliation of the party still burning in his chest like open lava. The slap Charan had delivered in front of everyone—especially in front of Deepa—replayed again and again. The prestigious project Charan had snatched still stung, but the public insult cut deeper. He poured another drink, eyes cold.
“At any cost,” he muttered to the empty room, “that bastard will come to my feet. He will beg me. And when he does, I will fuck his precious wife right in front of him. I will make her moan. I will make her squirt while he watches.”
The thought of Deepa’s body—her soft midriff when the pallu had fallen, the way her breasts had moved with her breathing—fed the fire. But first he needed to break the affection between husband and wife. Direct force would not work. He needed poison from inside.
He called Sangeetha.
She arrived within the hour—his keep, a woman in her late twenties with a full, soft figure, large breasts that strained against every blouse she wore, wide hips, and a face that mixed innocence with quiet calculation. Raghava explained everything in detail: the staged robbery, the exact road, the timing of Charan’s car, the role she would play, and the final goal—to enter Charan’s office, become close, and feed him every piece of information while slowly pulling Charan’s attention away from Deepa.
Sangeetha listened, a slow smile curving her lips. “I understand, Raghava. Leave it to me.”
The next evening the plan unfolded on a quiet stretch of road.
Charan’s car rounded the corner just as four hired goons surrounded Sangeetha. One yanked at her handbag. Another grabbed her arm. She screamed on cue—high, terrified, convincing.
“Help! Someone help me!”
Charan slammed the brakes, threw the door open, and stepped out.
“Hey! Who are you? Why are you taking her bag?”
The goons continued pulling at her, deliberately slow enough for him to intervene. Charan moved in fast. His fist connected with the nearest man’s jaw. The others hesitated, then scattered as planned, leaving Sangeetha trembling on the roadside, handbag still in her hands.
She looked up at him with wide, grateful eyes, chest heaving.
“Sir… thank you so much. If this money had been stolen… my mother’s operation… she would have died. You saved both our lives.”
Charan, still breathing hard from the brief fight, softened. “It’s all right. Are you hurt?”
“No… I’m fine because of you.” She clutched the bag tighter. “Please… can you drop me somewhere safe? I don’t think I can walk alone now.”
He hesitated only a moment, then nodded. “Come. Get in.”
Inside the car the air felt charged. Sangeetha sat close, the scent of her perfume filling the space. Her blouse was slightly dishevelled from the struggle, the upper curve of her heavy breasts visible with every breath. Charan kept his eyes on the road, but he was aware of her.
“Who are you?” he asked after a while.
“Sangeetha, sir. I finished my MBA two years ago. My father left a fixed deposit before he died. Today I withdrew the amount for my mother’s surgery. Those men must have followed me from the bank.” Her voice trembled convincingly. “You didn’t just save money. You saved my mother’s life.”
Charan glanced at her. Genuine pity mixed with the lingering heat of the fight. “You have no job?”
“No, sir. I have been searching for months.”
He was silent for a stretch of road. Then, almost on impulse: “Come to my office the day after tomorrow. I need an assistant who can handle supervision work. We will see.”
Sangeetha’s face lit up with perfect, calculated joy. “Really, sir? Thank you… thank you so much.”
Before he could react she leaned across the seat and hugged him tightly. The soft, heavy weight of her breasts pressed fully against his arm and chest. For a second Charan froze, feeling the warm, yielding flesh through the thin fabric of her blouse. The unexpected contact sent a sharp jolt through him. He did not push her away immediately. The hug lasted a moment longer than necessary before she pulled back, eyes shining with gratitude.
“I will never forget this help, sir.”
Three days later Sangeetha walked into Charan’s office dressed in a fitted formal saree that still could not hide the full curves of her body. Charan assigned her as his personal assistant with supervisory duties. She was efficient, soft-spoken, and always slightly too close when she leaned over his desk to show files. The faint perfume, the occasional brush of her breast against his shoulder when she pointed at a document, the grateful smiles—she used every opening carefully.
That same evening she met Raghava in a private room.
“It is done,” she said, a satisfied curve on her lips. “I am inside. He trusts me already. The hug in the car… he felt everything. I will give you every piece of information from the office. And slowly… I will make sure his eyes stay on me more than on his wife.”
Raghava’s smile was dark and pleased. He pulled her close, one hand sliding over the heavy swell of her breast, squeezing possessively.
“Good girl. Keep going, Sangeetha. Break the bond first. Make him weak. The documents which are related to projects and some type materials purchasing documents change with I given documents. Then sure the company gets negative fame.. It's easy to destroy his company and next him.


When the time is right, Deepa will be mine to use in front of him. Every moan. Every squirt. Exactly as I promised.”
Sangeetha pressed herself against him, already planning the next carefully measured step inside Charan’s office. The trap had been set, and the first soft threads were already wrapping around the man who had publicly humiliated Raghava.

[Tamilmathi]

Great bro....
Im waiting next updates