Adultery NAZRIN AN INNOCENT WIFE (With pics)

[Cuckoldindian]

UPDATE 2:

That night, as Fahim lay snoring beside her, she lay awake, her mind racing with the possibilities. The routine of their marriage felt suffocating in comparison to the fire that had been kindled within her. Her body ached for something more, something she had never even allowed herself to dream of.
 
The apartment was quiet as she moved through it, the silence a stark contrast to the cacophony of thoughts in her head. She couldn't shake the image of Muthu and Praveen, the way they had looked at her, the promise in their eyes. The desire to explore this newfound curiosity was like a siren's call, growing stronger with each passing moment.
 
The next morning, after Fahim left for work, Nazrin carefully selected a more conservative than usual cotton saree from her wardrobe. The fabric was thick, the color a deep maroon that matched the unspoken passion burning within her. She wrapped it around her body, tucking and pleating until it clung to her curves in all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination.


 
Her eyes met Muthu and Praveen's as she entered the classroom. The mischief in their gazes from the day before had evolved into something more knowing, more... hungry. They sat at the back of the room, their desks pushed together as if in silent collusion. Her heart skipped a beat as she felt their eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her covered in the crimson dbang.
 
Nazrin cleared her throat, calling the class to order. "Good morning, everyone," she began, her voice a tad shakier than usual. She tried to ignore the way the two young men leaned in, their eyes never leaving her. She felt their gazes like a physical touch, stroking her skin, her body responding in ways she had never experienced before.
 
The lecture passed in a blur as she struggled to keep her thoughts in check. Her mind kept wandering back to the video, the woman's cries of pleasure echoing in her ears. As the time came for the assignment, she handed out the papers with trembling hands, hoping no one would notice her distraction.
 
The students scribbled away, their heads bent in concentration, but Nazrin couldn't focus. Her eyes kept darting to the back of the class, where Muthu and Praveen sat with that knowing smirk. She felt a strange pull towards them, their confidence and brazenness a stark contrast to Fahim's timidness.
 
Finally, she couldn't resist any longer. She approached their bench, her heart thudding in her chest. As she leaned over to check their assignments, she caught a glimpse of the phone screen. A girl, no older than them, had her fingers buried in her wet, pink Pussy. Her eyes locked onto the image, her body responding in ways she had never felt before.


 
"Ma'am," Praveen whispered, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "this is called fingering. It's a way to relieve stress for women."
 
Nazrin's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she snatched the phone from his hand. She had never seen anything so... obscene, yet she couldn't deny the allure of the act playing out before her. The image of the girl's fingers working her clit was burned into her mind, and she felt a strange sensation between her own legs.

The bell's shrill ring brought her back to reality. She looked around the classroom, relieved to find that the other students were still engrossed in their work, oblivious to the scandalous scene that had just unfolded. "Class dismissed," she called out, her voice unsteady. The students began to pack up their belongings, the air thick with the scent of scandal. She snatched the phone form Praveen.
 
Nazrin's legs felt like jelly as she hurried to the women's restroom, her heart racing. Once inside, she locked the door of the last stall and leaned against the cool tiles, her breath coming in short gasps. The image of the girl on the phone was seared into her mind, her own curiosity mirrored in the student's brazen act.
 
With trembling hands, she played the video again, her eyes glued to the screen. The woman's fingers moved with an expertise that was mesmerizing. Nazrin felt the fabric of her panties sticking to her wetness, the need to explore this newfound desire overwhelming. With a quick look around to ensure she was alone, she lifted her petticoat and gently pushed aside the crotch of her panties. Her heart hammered as she watched the video, mimicking the motions with her own fingers.
 
Her touch was tentative at first, unsure of the sensations that flooded through her. She had never felt anything so intense, so intimate. The walls of the stall seemed to close in around her as she grew bolder, her fingers delving deeper into her wetness. The sounds of the classroom outside faded away, leaving only the soft noises of her own pleasure.


 
On the screen, the woman's orgasm grew louder, more intense, and Nazrin felt her own climax building. She watched, fascinated, as the woman's body convulsed with pleasure, her hand a blur between her legs. Her breathing grew ragged, her chest heaving as she matched the rhythm of the woman's fingers with her own.
 
The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The walls of the stall seemed to pulse around her as she grew closer and closer to the edge. Her eyes squeezed shut, her body tightening with every stroke. With a gasp, she felt the wave of pleasure crash over her, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. It was a feeling so powerful, so all-consuming, that it brought tears to her eyes.


 
As the tremors subsided, Nazrin slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the phone still clutched in her hand. She had done it, she had finally felt that elusive pleasure that had been whispered about in hushed tones by her colleagues and friends. The video continued to play, the woman on the screen now lying spent, a look of utter satisfaction etched on her face.
 
Nazrin quickly tucked the phone into her bag, her cheeks still flushed with the aftermath of her climax. She took a moment to compose herself, smoothing her rumpled clothes and straightening her blouse. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She had never felt so alive, so... powerful.
 
As she stepped out of the restroom, she found Muthu and Praveen leaning against the wall, their smiles knowing and slightly smug. "Ma'am," Muthu said, his voice low and sultry, "I'm glad you enjoyed the... demonstration."

Nazrin felt her cheeks burn as she handed the phone back to Praveen. His hand brushed against hers, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She snatched her hand away, trying to regain her composure. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stuttered, her voice betraying her.
Praveen said “Ma’am Shall I have my phone back?”
Praveen's smile grew wider and continued as Nazrin handed the phone to him. "Never mind, Ma'am. It's just something we saw on the internet." He pocketed the phone, and Muthu stepped closer. "Could we have your number, Ma'am?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with a mischief that made Nazrin's pulse race.
 
Nazrin, still reeling from the encounter in the bathroom, felt a rush of excitement. She hesitated for a moment before rattling off her number, her voice barely a whisper. "Why do you need my number?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
 
Muthu leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "For... educational purposes, Ma'am," he murmured, his smile wicked.
 
Nazrin gives her Number to Muthu.
 
Nazrin's cheeks burned as she realized the implication of her actions. She had just masturbated in the restroom while watching a video on her student's phone. The scandal of it all washed over her, but she couldn't help the thrill that danced through her veins. She had never felt so... wanton.
 
With trembling legs, she made her way back to the staff room, her mind racing. She had to get away from those two before they realized what had happened. She couldn't bear the thought of their knowing smirks, the way they had watched her fumble with her own desires.
 
Once inside, she collapsed into a chair, her chest heaving with the effort to calm herself. Her hand strayed to her damp panties, the evidence of her transgression sticking to her skin. She couldn't believe what she had just done, but the memory of the pleasure she had experienced was too vivid to ignore.
 
Nazrin went back home once the college is finished for the day.

When she entered the kitchen, Fahim looked up from the stove, a spatula in hand. His eyes widened at the sight of her, and she realized she must have looked like a woman possessed. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
 
Nazrin didn't bother with pleasantries. She grabbed Fahim's arm and dragged him into the bedroom, her eyes gleaming with a hunger she had never felt before. She pushed him onto the bed and began to strip off her clothes with an urgency that surprised even herself. Fahim watched, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and arousal as she revealed her naked body, her breasts firm and her stomach flat.


 
Without a word, she straddled him, her slickness coating his thighs as she lowered herself onto his already hard cock. Fahim gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head at the suddenness of it all. He had never seen his wife like this, so wild and unbridled. He felt his own arousal spike, his four inches straining to fill her.
 
Nazrin began to rock her hips, her eyes closed as she imagined the powerful strokes from the video. She felt Fahim's hands tentatively touch her breasts, his thumbs brushing against her erect nipples. She moaned, the sound of his name on her lips.
 
Fahim, surprised by her sudden aggression, responded by bucking his hips upward, trying to meet her rhythm. Despite his efforts, he was overwhelmed by her passion, and within minutes, he reached his climax with a loud grunt, his seed spilling into her. He collapsed onto the bed, his chest heaving.
 
Nazrin, however, was far from satisfied. Her eyes searched Fahim's as he rolled over to leave for the bathroom. His expression was one of shock and confusion, but she knew he couldn't give her what she truly craved. The images of Muthu and Praveen's smirks, the way they had watched her with hunger in their eyes, filled her mind.

 
Her hand slipped between her legs, feeling the wetness that had been building since the moment she watched the video. She began to stroke herself, her eyes closed tightly as she tried to recreate the sensations she had felt in the classroom. She pictured the two young men's strong hands guiding her, showing her the way to pleasure she had never known before.
 
Her breath grew ragged as she grew more desperate, her hips bucking against her own touch. She knew Fahim wouldn't understand, wouldn't be able to give her what she needed. But the thought of Muthu and Praveen, their knowing smiles and the way they had looked at her, filled her with a burning desire that she couldn't ignore.


 
Her hand moved faster, her imagination running wild with the idea of their strong, young bodies pressed against hers, their cocks thick and demanding. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as she reached the peak of her pleasure, her body spasming with the intensity of her climax.
 
The room was silent except for the sound of her own breathing, which gradually returned to normal. She laid there, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, feeling more alive than she had in years. But it wasn't enough. The emptiness she had felt before was still there, now amplified by the stark contrast of the passion she had just experienced.
 
Nazrin took a deep breath and slowly climbed out of bed, her legs wobbly from the intensity of her masturbation. She had to get dressed for dinner, but the thought of facing Fahim was almost unbearable. The innocence of their marriage now felt like a cage she desperately needed to escape from.
 
As the evening rolled in, they sat down for dinner, the usual banter replaced by a tense silence. Fahim talked about his day at the bank, his words barely registering in Nazrin's mind. She pushed the food around her plate, her thoughts consumed by the events of the day. The food felt like ash in her mouth, a stark contrast to the sweet taste of her own desire.
 
Finally, Fahim kissed her on the forehead and retreated to bed, leaving Nazrin alone in the quiet apartment. She sat in the living room, the flickering TV her only company. Her eyes kept drifting to her phone, the silent device a beacon of the excitement she had felt earlier.
 
The sudden buzz of a notification sent a jolt through her body. She picked up the phone, her heart racing. It was a WhatsApp message: "Muthu has added you to a group." She opened the app with trembling fingers and found herself in a chat with the two students. The sight of their names on her screen was like a forbidden fruit, tempting her with the promise of the unknown.