24-07-2023, 11:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-07-2026, 01:27 AM by rehanalina. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
CHAPTER 4 PLAN IN MOTION
The sales pitch was progressing smoothly, each word I spoke weaving a tapestry of understanding between me and the client. Their needs became clearer with every exchange, and I felt a surge of confidence as I navigated the intricate dance of persuasion. Still, I kept my progress under wraps, wary of the jinx that often accompanies premature celebration. Meanwhile, Kunal was working his own magic, weaving himself into Sachin’s circle with surprising ease. It baffled me how he managed to penetrate the fortress of self-importance that surrounded someone like Sachin, who typically guarded his inner circle fiercely. But then again, everyone has their own unique talents.
On a bright Saturday morning, my phone buzzed with Kunal’s text, breaking the tranquil silence of my weekend. We dove into conversation, and he filled me in on his latest updates regarding Sachin. He’d even added me to his social media friend list, setting the stage for an introduction between Sachin and Alina as my “friend.”
K: “I think we can set up a meeting between Alina and Sachin.”
Me: “So soon? I haven’t even closed the deal yet.”
K: “It’s fine. For the past two weeks, I’ve been steering him toward the idea that he should sleep with your wife to one-up you.”
He sent over screenshots that made my heart race—a thread where Sachin had dismissed Alina, calling her “not my type” and commenting on her modest attire. Kunal shot back, “That’s where the thrill lies: you get to conquer his covered wife, and there’s no sweeter victory than that.” After a long day without a reply, Sachin finally responded with a simple, chilling affirmation: “Let’s do it.”
A thrill shot through me as I realized my rival had taken an interest in my wife. Kunal’s persuasive skills must have been extraordinary; he was like a magician weaving spells.
K: “If you can close the deal soon, it’ll push Sachin to his limits—this will be the final nail in our plan.”
“Today, take Alina to the big mall. You’ll meet Sachin there. I’ve already told him you’re coming, and he’s supposed to start working his charm on her today.”
K: “Don’t be surprised if he’s overly friendly. It’s all part of the plan we agreed on—he’s aiming to make a memorable impression on Alina.”
“Does she know about him?”
“Of course,” I replied, recalling our conversations. “I’ve warned her about his reputation, how he’s an arrogant womanizer. She even got annoyed last week when I kept complaining about him, saying it felt like he was living with us. She told me to man up and confront him instead of whining.”
K: “Then today should be quite the surprise. Make sure you’re there with her at seven sharp. That’s when your wife begins her journey as Sachin’s conquest.”
“Wow, that sounds incredible. Seven it is.”
I hurried to the washroom, heart racing as I replayed the conversation in my mind. The thrill of knowing today marked the beginning of my wife’s transformation into Sachin’s conquest sent waves of arousal coursing through me. I could hardly contain myself as I imagined the possibilities. After regaining my composure, I stepped out and told Alina we were going shopping. Her eyes lit up at the mention of it, and she eagerly began to sift through her wardrobe, contemplating her outfit.
By five o‘clock, I entered our room to find her standing in front of the mirror, torn between two dresses.
“Rehan, which one should I wear? I’m confused,” she said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
I gestured toward the silver dress hanging on the rack. “Wear this one; you look absolutely ravishing in it.”
“But it’s too tight,” she protested, glancing at the fabric that hugged her curves. “I bought it during our marriage days. I don’t think it’ll be appropriate for the mall.”
I took a moment, observing the way the dress shimmered under the light, accentuating her figure beautifully. “It doesn’t look too tight at all. Trust me, you’ll turn heads, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ll look stunning, and there’s no reason to worry.”
After a few more minutes of gentle persuasion, her resolve softened. A smile broke across her face as she finally relented, slipping into the dress that clung to her in all the right places, excitement bubbling within her as she prepared for our outing.
Half an hour later, Alina glided into the living room, and my breath caught in my throat. The silver kurti clung to her curves like a second skin, hugging her figure in all the right places. The fabric accentuated her full breasts, drawing the eye with its delicate shimmer. She paired it with sleek black leggings that showcased her shapely legs, which, though not long, held a tantalizing allure that could easily captivate any onlooker. A silver scarf framed her face, contrasting beautifully with her fair skin, while her light makeup highlighted her features without overwhelming them.
As she stepped into the living room, I couldn’t help but notice the way the building’s men stole glances at her, their eyes lingering just a moment too long. Even our watchman, known for his nonchalant demeanor, seemed entranced; he wiped down the car with exaggerated care, his gaze lingering on her as if she were a rare jewel. The air crackled with a charged energy as we set off for the mall, the anticipation of what lay ahead swirling between us.
We arrived ten minutes early, the traffic cooperating for once. Just as we parked, a message from Kunal pinged on my phone, instructing me to leave my wallet behind—a detail I complied with without hesitation. We entered the mall, and while Alina browsed through the shops, I kept my eyes peeled for Sachin, careful not to let my wife catch on to my true intentions.
Suddenly, another message from Kunal flashed across my screen: “2nd floor, lifestyle. Bring the slut.” My heart raced at the thrill of the moment, but I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that accompanied Kunal’s casual label for my wife, a word that felt jarring against the backdrop of my growing excitement.
“Alina, come on! Let’s head to Lifestyle—I just spotted a banner about some huge discounts. We have to check it out.” As we stepped into the store, my phone buzzed again with a message from Kunal: ‘Ladies ethnic wear section, act surprised.’
I guided Alina toward the ethnic wear area, but the moment we entered, I felt her grip on my hand tighten. Her eyes had locked onto something—or rather, someone—before I even registered it. Sachin was approaching, his tall frame cutting through the crowd with an easy confidence.
Alina leaned closer to me, her voice low but fierce. “Don’t worry, I’m right here. If he tries anything, just give it back to him. I’ve got your back.”
A rush of surprise coursed through me. My wife, usually so reserved around unfamiliar faces, was suddenly radiating a boldness I hadn’t seen before. It must have been the seeds I’d planted about Sachin’s arrogance that had stirred this protective fire within her.
As Sachin approached, his tall silhouette cutting through the crowd, he extended his right hand toward me. The moment our palms met, he pulled me into an unexpected embrace, catching me off guard. “Rehan! My man, what a pleasant surprise! Didn’t expect to see you here!” His voice boomed with an enthusiasm that felt both genuine and forced.
Before I could muster a response, he shifted his attention to Alina, his gaze sweeping over her with an unsettling familiarity. “And this beautiful woman must be your wife, Alina. Though this is our first meeting, I feel like I know you already. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things.” His words dripped with charm, yet I cringed internally.
Alina, momentarily taken aback by his forwardness, held her ground. When he reached out to shake her hand, she hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. But then, after a heartbeat of contemplation, she relented, allowing her fingers to slide into his grasp. A thrill shot through me; this was a rare breach of her boundaries. She had always been steadfast about maintaining her distance from unfamiliar men, adhering to her beliefs that prohibited such contact.
This moment felt monumental, a shift in our dynamic that sent my mind racing with excitement and dread. Was this a sign of submission? I couldn’t help but wonder. “So, did you find anything interesting in the mall?” Sachin asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just crossed an unspoken line.
He turned his attention to Alina, and their conversation flowed seamlessly, drawing her in like a moth to a flame—just as I had witnessed him do with countless women at office parties. Sachin gestured animatedly toward various dresses, his voice smooth and persuasive. I noticed the flush of embarrassment creeping across Alina’s cheeks as she glanced at the fabrics he held up, but soon, a spark of curiosity ignited within her.
As they sifted through the racks, I watched her demeanor shift; she leaned closer to Sachin, her initial shyness melting away. He showcased an array of vibrant ethnic kurtis, and before long, she was holding a couple of them up, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “What do you think of this one?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine interest. The way she sought my opinion felt like a small victory, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was slowly losing my grip.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed—a message from Kunal jolted me back to reality: “Get your wallet from the car. Turn on the timer for 1 hour; don’t show up before that.” A rush of excitement coursed through me, but a flicker of doubt lingered. I didn’t want to leave Alina alone with Sachin, yet my desires twisted my thoughts in a different direction.
I cleared my throat, injecting a casual tone into my voice as I announced, “I’m going to grab my wallet from the car. I left it behind, but I’ll be back shortly.” I emphasized the distance of the parking lot, spinning a tale of long waits for the lift and the maze of the basement. Alina frowned slightly, concern etching her features, but I reassured her to continue shopping with Sachin.
As I slipped away, I navigated to the parking lot, retrieving my wallet in a swift five minutes. Now, I faced the daunting question: what to do with the remaining fifty-five minutes?
An idea sparked in my mind: I could spy on them. I slipped through the mall’s basement, weaving past the lesser-known shops, my eyes scanning for something to mask my identity. I selected a nondescript jacket and a cap, feeling the fabric against my skin as I pulled them on. The final touch was a COVID mask, completing my transformation into an anonymous observer.
Thirty minutes later, my heart raced as I approached Lifestyle, the thrill of this clandestine mission sending adrenaline coursing through me. I entered the store, keeping to the shadows, my gaze darting around until I spotted them in the western wear section.
Sachin had clearly made the most of those thirty minutes; Alina was browsing through t-shirts and tops, her laughter mingling with his animated chatter. A sense of unease washed over me as I noted her relaxed demeanor—she seemed at ease with him, her bag already brimming with clothes. It was astonishing how quickly he had drawn her in.
I watched as Sachin held up a vibrant red t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his voice smooth and persuasive. Alina’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. After a moment, he gestured toward the trial room, and I felt a surge of disbelief. There was no way she would agree to that, yet as I held my breath, I saw her shake her head, even as Sachin pressed on, his insistence palpable.
As they drifted toward another rack, I observed Alina’s demeanor shift. Though she engaged with Sachin, her laughter light and easy, there was an invisible line she refused to cross, and I felt a swell of pride in her restraint. With just five minutes left, I began scouting for a discreet spot to shed the jacket and cap that masked my identity. Just as I was about to exit Lifestyle, I caught sight of Sachin pulling out that same striking red top and a pair of jeans, gesturing toward the trial room with an air of casual authority.
Alina hesitated again, her brow knitting in uncertainty, but when he pointed at his watch, urging her to hurry, she shrugged and accepted the clothes from his hand. For a fleeting moment, her gaze swept across the store and landed on me. My disguise held firm; she glanced past, unaware of my presence, and slipped into the changing room.
A tumult of emotions surged within me—jealousy, anger, and an undeniable thrill. The thought of her trying on those outfits chosen by my rival sent a rush of heat through my body. My pulse quickened, and I felt my arousal deepen. Yet, I was resolute: if Sachin intended to catch a glimpse of her in that dress, it would not happen.
I edged closer to the trial room, anticipation coiling tightly in my chest. Then, the door swung open, and my breath caught in my throat. Alina emerged, clad in the snug t-shirt and form-fitting jeans that clung to her curves like a second skin. The fabric hugged her body so tightly that it seemed ready to burst, accentuating her breasts in a way that made my heart race. The outline of her bra pressed against the material, hinting at the fullness of her shape. Despite the revealing nature of the outfit, she still wore her veil, a delicate balance of modesty and allure that only intensified the moment.
My heart raced as I processed the scene unfolding before me. Sachin stood there, a smug smile playing on his lips, clearly reveling in the moment. His voice, smooth and unhurried, cut through the tension: “See? I told you this would fit you nicely.” Alina’s eyes darted nervously around the store, her body tense, yet she stepped back into the changing room at his encouraging nod, a mix of fear and compliance flickering across her features.
Desire surged within me, a primal urge to take control. I briefly considered slipping away to the restroom for a quick release, but I fought against it. Instead, I shed my disguise—a jacket, cap, and mask—hastily stowing them in the men’s section before searching for them again. When I finally spotted Alina, she emerged from the changing room, her face lighting up at my return, the snug t-shirt and fitted jeans accentuating her curves in a way that made my breath hitch.
I offered a grateful nod to Sachin for his “assistance” with my wife, and he casually patted my back, the gesture laced with mock camaraderie. The shopping trip wrapped up, and as we walked toward the parking lot, the clock had already struck ten. My thoughts were consumed with the urgency of returning home, the need to claim her coursing through my veins.
Just then, my phone buzzed—a message from Kunal that sent a chill down my spine. “Sachin said today was super successful. He’s made a good connection with the slut. She even gave him her number for good morning messages. All those outfits? His selection. Next time, he thinks you should meet him in a lingerie shop. Lol.”
I replied with a casual smiley, glancing at Alina as she perused another rack. K’s message flashed on my screen: “And one more thing, the whore wore a tight-fitting top and jeans for Sachin, and he felt her body a little.” My heart dropped, disbelief washing over me. I had been right there, yet I hadn’t seen anything, just shadows and angles obscured by Sachin’s confident stance. But the memory of him standing so close to her gnawed at me. I recalled the way Alina had shifted under his gaze, her laughter mingling with unease. Could it be that K was exaggerating? Yet, a nagging doubt lingered—why would he lie about something like this?
The sales pitch was progressing smoothly, each word I spoke weaving a tapestry of understanding between me and the client. Their needs became clearer with every exchange, and I felt a surge of confidence as I navigated the intricate dance of persuasion. Still, I kept my progress under wraps, wary of the jinx that often accompanies premature celebration. Meanwhile, Kunal was working his own magic, weaving himself into Sachin’s circle with surprising ease. It baffled me how he managed to penetrate the fortress of self-importance that surrounded someone like Sachin, who typically guarded his inner circle fiercely. But then again, everyone has their own unique talents.
On a bright Saturday morning, my phone buzzed with Kunal’s text, breaking the tranquil silence of my weekend. We dove into conversation, and he filled me in on his latest updates regarding Sachin. He’d even added me to his social media friend list, setting the stage for an introduction between Sachin and Alina as my “friend.”
K: “I think we can set up a meeting between Alina and Sachin.”
Me: “So soon? I haven’t even closed the deal yet.”
K: “It’s fine. For the past two weeks, I’ve been steering him toward the idea that he should sleep with your wife to one-up you.”
He sent over screenshots that made my heart race—a thread where Sachin had dismissed Alina, calling her “not my type” and commenting on her modest attire. Kunal shot back, “That’s where the thrill lies: you get to conquer his covered wife, and there’s no sweeter victory than that.” After a long day without a reply, Sachin finally responded with a simple, chilling affirmation: “Let’s do it.”
A thrill shot through me as I realized my rival had taken an interest in my wife. Kunal’s persuasive skills must have been extraordinary; he was like a magician weaving spells.
K: “If you can close the deal soon, it’ll push Sachin to his limits—this will be the final nail in our plan.”
“Today, take Alina to the big mall. You’ll meet Sachin there. I’ve already told him you’re coming, and he’s supposed to start working his charm on her today.”
K: “Don’t be surprised if he’s overly friendly. It’s all part of the plan we agreed on—he’s aiming to make a memorable impression on Alina.”
“Does she know about him?”
“Of course,” I replied, recalling our conversations. “I’ve warned her about his reputation, how he’s an arrogant womanizer. She even got annoyed last week when I kept complaining about him, saying it felt like he was living with us. She told me to man up and confront him instead of whining.”
K: “Then today should be quite the surprise. Make sure you’re there with her at seven sharp. That’s when your wife begins her journey as Sachin’s conquest.”
“Wow, that sounds incredible. Seven it is.”
I hurried to the washroom, heart racing as I replayed the conversation in my mind. The thrill of knowing today marked the beginning of my wife’s transformation into Sachin’s conquest sent waves of arousal coursing through me. I could hardly contain myself as I imagined the possibilities. After regaining my composure, I stepped out and told Alina we were going shopping. Her eyes lit up at the mention of it, and she eagerly began to sift through her wardrobe, contemplating her outfit.
By five o‘clock, I entered our room to find her standing in front of the mirror, torn between two dresses.
“Rehan, which one should I wear? I’m confused,” she said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
I gestured toward the silver dress hanging on the rack. “Wear this one; you look absolutely ravishing in it.”
“But it’s too tight,” she protested, glancing at the fabric that hugged her curves. “I bought it during our marriage days. I don’t think it’ll be appropriate for the mall.”
I took a moment, observing the way the dress shimmered under the light, accentuating her figure beautifully. “It doesn’t look too tight at all. Trust me, you’ll turn heads, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You’ll look stunning, and there’s no reason to worry.”
After a few more minutes of gentle persuasion, her resolve softened. A smile broke across her face as she finally relented, slipping into the dress that clung to her in all the right places, excitement bubbling within her as she prepared for our outing.
Half an hour later, Alina glided into the living room, and my breath caught in my throat. The silver kurti clung to her curves like a second skin, hugging her figure in all the right places. The fabric accentuated her full breasts, drawing the eye with its delicate shimmer. She paired it with sleek black leggings that showcased her shapely legs, which, though not long, held a tantalizing allure that could easily captivate any onlooker. A silver scarf framed her face, contrasting beautifully with her fair skin, while her light makeup highlighted her features without overwhelming them.
As she stepped into the living room, I couldn’t help but notice the way the building’s men stole glances at her, their eyes lingering just a moment too long. Even our watchman, known for his nonchalant demeanor, seemed entranced; he wiped down the car with exaggerated care, his gaze lingering on her as if she were a rare jewel. The air crackled with a charged energy as we set off for the mall, the anticipation of what lay ahead swirling between us.
We arrived ten minutes early, the traffic cooperating for once. Just as we parked, a message from Kunal pinged on my phone, instructing me to leave my wallet behind—a detail I complied with without hesitation. We entered the mall, and while Alina browsed through the shops, I kept my eyes peeled for Sachin, careful not to let my wife catch on to my true intentions.
Suddenly, another message from Kunal flashed across my screen: “2nd floor, lifestyle. Bring the slut.” My heart raced at the thrill of the moment, but I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that accompanied Kunal’s casual label for my wife, a word that felt jarring against the backdrop of my growing excitement.
“Alina, come on! Let’s head to Lifestyle—I just spotted a banner about some huge discounts. We have to check it out.” As we stepped into the store, my phone buzzed again with a message from Kunal: ‘Ladies ethnic wear section, act surprised.’
I guided Alina toward the ethnic wear area, but the moment we entered, I felt her grip on my hand tighten. Her eyes had locked onto something—or rather, someone—before I even registered it. Sachin was approaching, his tall frame cutting through the crowd with an easy confidence.
Alina leaned closer to me, her voice low but fierce. “Don’t worry, I’m right here. If he tries anything, just give it back to him. I’ve got your back.”
A rush of surprise coursed through me. My wife, usually so reserved around unfamiliar faces, was suddenly radiating a boldness I hadn’t seen before. It must have been the seeds I’d planted about Sachin’s arrogance that had stirred this protective fire within her.
As Sachin approached, his tall silhouette cutting through the crowd, he extended his right hand toward me. The moment our palms met, he pulled me into an unexpected embrace, catching me off guard. “Rehan! My man, what a pleasant surprise! Didn’t expect to see you here!” His voice boomed with an enthusiasm that felt both genuine and forced.
Before I could muster a response, he shifted his attention to Alina, his gaze sweeping over her with an unsettling familiarity. “And this beautiful woman must be your wife, Alina. Though this is our first meeting, I feel like I know you already. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things.” His words dripped with charm, yet I cringed internally.
Alina, momentarily taken aback by his forwardness, held her ground. When he reached out to shake her hand, she hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. But then, after a heartbeat of contemplation, she relented, allowing her fingers to slide into his grasp. A thrill shot through me; this was a rare breach of her boundaries. She had always been steadfast about maintaining her distance from unfamiliar men, adhering to her beliefs that prohibited such contact.
This moment felt monumental, a shift in our dynamic that sent my mind racing with excitement and dread. Was this a sign of submission? I couldn’t help but wonder. “So, did you find anything interesting in the mall?” Sachin asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just crossed an unspoken line.
He turned his attention to Alina, and their conversation flowed seamlessly, drawing her in like a moth to a flame—just as I had witnessed him do with countless women at office parties. Sachin gestured animatedly toward various dresses, his voice smooth and persuasive. I noticed the flush of embarrassment creeping across Alina’s cheeks as she glanced at the fabrics he held up, but soon, a spark of curiosity ignited within her.
As they sifted through the racks, I watched her demeanor shift; she leaned closer to Sachin, her initial shyness melting away. He showcased an array of vibrant ethnic kurtis, and before long, she was holding a couple of them up, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. “What do you think of this one?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine interest. The way she sought my opinion felt like a small victory, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was slowly losing my grip.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed—a message from Kunal jolted me back to reality: “Get your wallet from the car. Turn on the timer for 1 hour; don’t show up before that.” A rush of excitement coursed through me, but a flicker of doubt lingered. I didn’t want to leave Alina alone with Sachin, yet my desires twisted my thoughts in a different direction.
I cleared my throat, injecting a casual tone into my voice as I announced, “I’m going to grab my wallet from the car. I left it behind, but I’ll be back shortly.” I emphasized the distance of the parking lot, spinning a tale of long waits for the lift and the maze of the basement. Alina frowned slightly, concern etching her features, but I reassured her to continue shopping with Sachin.
As I slipped away, I navigated to the parking lot, retrieving my wallet in a swift five minutes. Now, I faced the daunting question: what to do with the remaining fifty-five minutes?
An idea sparked in my mind: I could spy on them. I slipped through the mall’s basement, weaving past the lesser-known shops, my eyes scanning for something to mask my identity. I selected a nondescript jacket and a cap, feeling the fabric against my skin as I pulled them on. The final touch was a COVID mask, completing my transformation into an anonymous observer.
Thirty minutes later, my heart raced as I approached Lifestyle, the thrill of this clandestine mission sending adrenaline coursing through me. I entered the store, keeping to the shadows, my gaze darting around until I spotted them in the western wear section.
Sachin had clearly made the most of those thirty minutes; Alina was browsing through t-shirts and tops, her laughter mingling with his animated chatter. A sense of unease washed over me as I noted her relaxed demeanor—she seemed at ease with him, her bag already brimming with clothes. It was astonishing how quickly he had drawn her in.
I watched as Sachin held up a vibrant red t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his voice smooth and persuasive. Alina’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. After a moment, he gestured toward the trial room, and I felt a surge of disbelief. There was no way she would agree to that, yet as I held my breath, I saw her shake her head, even as Sachin pressed on, his insistence palpable.
As they drifted toward another rack, I observed Alina’s demeanor shift. Though she engaged with Sachin, her laughter light and easy, there was an invisible line she refused to cross, and I felt a swell of pride in her restraint. With just five minutes left, I began scouting for a discreet spot to shed the jacket and cap that masked my identity. Just as I was about to exit Lifestyle, I caught sight of Sachin pulling out that same striking red top and a pair of jeans, gesturing toward the trial room with an air of casual authority.
Alina hesitated again, her brow knitting in uncertainty, but when he pointed at his watch, urging her to hurry, she shrugged and accepted the clothes from his hand. For a fleeting moment, her gaze swept across the store and landed on me. My disguise held firm; she glanced past, unaware of my presence, and slipped into the changing room.
A tumult of emotions surged within me—jealousy, anger, and an undeniable thrill. The thought of her trying on those outfits chosen by my rival sent a rush of heat through my body. My pulse quickened, and I felt my arousal deepen. Yet, I was resolute: if Sachin intended to catch a glimpse of her in that dress, it would not happen.
I edged closer to the trial room, anticipation coiling tightly in my chest. Then, the door swung open, and my breath caught in my throat. Alina emerged, clad in the snug t-shirt and form-fitting jeans that clung to her curves like a second skin. The fabric hugged her body so tightly that it seemed ready to burst, accentuating her breasts in a way that made my heart race. The outline of her bra pressed against the material, hinting at the fullness of her shape. Despite the revealing nature of the outfit, she still wore her veil, a delicate balance of modesty and allure that only intensified the moment.
My heart raced as I processed the scene unfolding before me. Sachin stood there, a smug smile playing on his lips, clearly reveling in the moment. His voice, smooth and unhurried, cut through the tension: “See? I told you this would fit you nicely.” Alina’s eyes darted nervously around the store, her body tense, yet she stepped back into the changing room at his encouraging nod, a mix of fear and compliance flickering across her features.
Desire surged within me, a primal urge to take control. I briefly considered slipping away to the restroom for a quick release, but I fought against it. Instead, I shed my disguise—a jacket, cap, and mask—hastily stowing them in the men’s section before searching for them again. When I finally spotted Alina, she emerged from the changing room, her face lighting up at my return, the snug t-shirt and fitted jeans accentuating her curves in a way that made my breath hitch.
I offered a grateful nod to Sachin for his “assistance” with my wife, and he casually patted my back, the gesture laced with mock camaraderie. The shopping trip wrapped up, and as we walked toward the parking lot, the clock had already struck ten. My thoughts were consumed with the urgency of returning home, the need to claim her coursing through my veins.
Just then, my phone buzzed—a message from Kunal that sent a chill down my spine. “Sachin said today was super successful. He’s made a good connection with the slut. She even gave him her number for good morning messages. All those outfits? His selection. Next time, he thinks you should meet him in a lingerie shop. Lol.”
I replied with a casual smiley, glancing at Alina as she perused another rack. K’s message flashed on my screen: “And one more thing, the whore wore a tight-fitting top and jeans for Sachin, and he felt her body a little.” My heart dropped, disbelief washing over me. I had been right there, yet I hadn’t seen anything, just shadows and angles obscured by Sachin’s confident stance. But the memory of him standing so close to her gnawed at me. I recalled the way Alina had shifted under his gaze, her laughter mingling with unease. Could it be that K was exaggerating? Yet, a nagging doubt lingered—why would he lie about something like this?
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