Adultery NAZRIN AN INNOCENT WIFE (With pics)

[Cuckoldindian]

Update 9:

With a smirk, she ended the call and turned her attention to the bags on the couch. Her fingers danced over the fabric, feeling the softness of the dresses and the whisper of lace against her skin. Then, with a sudden decision, she pulled her dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of fabric. Her bra and panties followed, leaving her naked in the soft glow of the living room lights.

 
Her skin was flushed, her nipples tight from the excitement of the day. She walked slowly towards the bathroom, each step a deliberate act of defiance against the mundane reality of her marriage. The cool tiles of the floor kissed her bare feet, sending shivers up her spine. She reached for the shower handle, the water cascading down like a waterfall of liquid need.
 
The water washed over her, a blend of hot and cold that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She took her time, her hands gliding over her curves, her fingertips tracing the lines of her newfound sexuality. As the water sluiced away the sweat and grime of the day, she felt a rebirth, a shedding of the old Nazrin and the emergence of a woman who knew what she wanted and was not afraid to take it.


 
When she stepped out of the shower, her skin glistening with droplets, she felt alive. She padded over to the bags, her bare feet leaving wet footprints on the floor. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting a warm light that painted her body in a seductive golden hue.
 
Her hand hovered over the padded bra, the fabric a whisper of promise against her skin. She slipped it on, watching in the mirror as it pushed her breasts up and together, creating a tantalizing cleavage that made her feel powerful, desirable. The crop top followed, the red fabric hugging her curves like a lover's embrace, revealing the slightest hint of her toned midriff.
 
The denim shorts were the final piece of the puzzle, and as she pulled them up her legs, she felt a thrill at the way they clung to her hips, the frayed edges brushing against the tops of her thighs. She turned to the full-length mirror, the image reflected back at her making her gasp. She had never looked so sexy, so bold. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous light as she twirled, watching the fabric swirl around her.
 
The padded bra had transformed her breasts into works of art, the deep red pushing them up and together in a way that was both alluring and intimidating. The crop top was a scandalous whisper of fabric, leaving her midriff bare, the slightest hint of her panties peeking out as she moved. The shorts hugged her curves, the tight fabric cupping her ass like a lover's hand. She felt a jolt of desire, a hunger that could only be satiated by the two boys who had brought her to this point.


 
The doorbell rang, a sudden jolt in the quiet of the house. She took a deep breath, her heart racing. She knew it was Arun, punctual as always. She walked to the door, her bare feet silent on the cool tiles. As she opened it, she saw the surprise etched on his face, his eyes widening as he took in her new look.
 
Arun's gaze swept over her, his eyes devouring the curves of her body. He had never seen her like this, a siren in red and black, a vision of temptation that was impossible to resist. His eyes lingered on the plunging neckline of her crop top, the fabric clinging to her breasts like a second skin. The shorts hugged her hips, the fabric so tight it was as if it had been painted on.
 
Nazrin felt his gaze like a caress, a silent acknowledgment of the power she held over him. She stepped aside, the fabric of her shorts whispering against her thighs as she moved. "Come in, Arun," she said, her voice a low purr that seemed to resonate through the very air.
 
He stepped over the threshold, his eyes never leaving hers as she closed the door behind him. She led him into the living room, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the couch where she had laid out her collegebooks and notes. "Sit," she instructed, pointing to the spot beside her.
 
Arun did as he was told, his eyes never leaving her as she sat down and arranged her legs in a way that made the shorts ride up even higher. He felt the weight of his own desire, the books in his hands seemingly inconsequential compared to the allure of her bare thighs and the promise of what lay beneath.
 
Nazrin began to teach, her voice a siren's song that wove through the air, wrapping around him in a seductive embrace. She spoke of algebra and calculus, but all Arun could focus on was the way her breasts moved as she gestured, the way the fabric of her top clung to her skin. Her scent was intoxicating, a sweet and spicy mix that made his head spin.
 
Every now and then, she would lean over, her breasts pressing against the fabric, threatening to spill out of the confines of the bra. Each time, she would catch him looking and give him a knowing smile, her eyes dark with desire. She was in complete control, a master of this silent dance of seduction.
 
Then, without warning, the lights flickered and went out. The room plunged into darkness, the only source of light coming from the emergency lamp in the hallway. The sudden change in atmosphere was electric, the tension between them palpable.
 
Nazrin's heart raced as she felt Arun's eyes on her in the darkness. The hum of the air conditioner stopped, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the distant wail of a car outside. "It happens sometimes in this area," she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady.
 
The emergency light flickered in the hallway, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls. Arun shifted uncomfortably beside her, the heat of his body palpable even in the sudden coolness of the room. "Ma'am," he began, his voice tight with desire, "the light is too dim for me to study."
 
Nazrin's eyes glinted in the half-light, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Ok, then let's finish it for today," she said, her voice a soft caress that seemed to echo through the darkness. "We can continue tomorrow."
 
Arun's heart hammered in his chest, the thudding rhythm a silent symphony of desire. He quickly packed his books into his bag, his movements jerky with need. The dim emergency light cast an eerie glow across the room, the shadows playing across their faces like lovers' whispers.
 
Nazrin leaned back into the couch cushions, her legs drawn up to her chest. The red crop top and black shorts clung to her wet skin, outlining every curve and dip with a tantalizing clarity that made Arun's mouth go dry. "Make yourself comfortable," she murmured, patting the cushion beside her.
 
He swallowed hard, setting his bag aside. The darkness was a comforting blanket, shielding them from the judgment of the outside world. He sat down next to her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. The fabric of her shorts was cold from the air conditioning, sending a shiver up her spine as their legs brushed together.
 
"Ma'am," Arun managed to say, his voice thick with desire, "you look... amazing."
 
Nazrin felt a thrill at his words, the darkness only heightening her awareness of him. She leaned closer, her breasts pressing against the fabric of the crop top, the wetness of her skin leaving dark spots on the red material. "Do you really think so?" she asked, her voice a teasing whisper.
 
"Yes, ma'am," Arun replied, his voice barely above a murmur. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the scent of her arousal mingling with the faint smell of the wet fabric. His hand hovered over her leg, the fabric of her shorts a silent invitation.
 
Nazrin felt the weight of his gaze, the hunger in his eyes a potent force that seemed to tug at her very soul. They chatted for a while, their voices low and intimate, the darkness acting as a catalyst for their desires. She talked about her day, the mundane details of shopping and teaching, while he listened with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving the swell of her breasts.
 
"Ma'am," Arun finally said, his voice thick with need, "I... I have to go. I have work to do at home." and continues "Ma'am, Can i hug you like yesterday.
 
Nazrin's smile was sadistic in the dim light. "Oh, really?" she asked, her voice a purr. "I thought we were having a productive session."
 
Arun swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between her face and her chest. "Ma'am," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I just want to thank you for the help."
 
Nazrin's smile grew wider. "Of course, Arun," she murmured, her voice a silky invitation. "Come closer."
 
Arun's heart skipped a beat as he leaned in, his hands tentatively reaching for her waist. She stood before him, a vision of temptation in the dim light, the fabric of her crop top sticking to her wet skin. His hands closed around her, the warmth of her body seeping into his palms as he pulled her closer. The fabric of the crop top was unforgiving, the cold wetness of it pressing against his chest as he felt the firmness of her breasts.
 
Nazrin's breath hitched as their bodies met, the warmth of his chest a stark contrast to the coolness of the fabric. She felt his bulge, a hard reminder of his desire, pressing against her stomach. Her hand slid up his back, her nails digging into his skin slightly as she pulled him closer. The fabric of her shorts was sticky with her juices, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.


 
Arun's breath was hot against her neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire that burned through her veins. She gasped as his teeth grazed her earlobe, his hands roaming over her bare skin, exploring the curves that she had so artfully displayed for him. His touch was tentative at first, as if he couldn't believe she was allowing this, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into it, her body arching towards him like a cat in heat.


 
Her own hand drifted up to his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. His kisses grew more insistent, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt on her skin. She felt a shiver run down her spine as his teeth closed around the sensitive spot just behind her ear, his breath hitching as she responded with a soft moan.
 
Nazrin's eyes fluttered shut, her mind a whirlwind of desire and need. She started to kiss his neck, her lips tracing a fiery path from his ear to his collarbone. He tasted like rainwater, fresh and clean, a stark contrast to the heady scent of their combined arousal. She felt him shiver beneath her touch, his grip on her waist tightening as he pressed her closer.


 
"Ma'am," he whispered, his voice a hoarse rasp that sent shivers down her spine, "Can I kiss you on your lips?"


 
Nazrin's heart raced in anticipation. She looked into Arun's eyes, dark pools of desire that mirrored her own. Without a word, she leaned in and planted a small peck on his lips, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss. His eyes searched hers, a silent question lingering in the air. She smirked, enjoying the power she held over him.


 
Her hand found its way to his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw as she leaned in again. This time, her lips lingered, parting slightly as she teased his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. Arun's breath hitched, his hands tightening around her waist as he tried to hold back the storm of passion that threatened to consume him.
 
Nazrin felt the heat of his body, the tension coiled in his muscles, and she knew that she had him. She pulled away, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "I think," she said, her voice a soft purr, "this is enough for today."
 
Arun's eyes searched hers, the hunger in them a stark contrast to the innocent facade he usually maintained. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort of maintaining control. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort. "Ma'am," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper, "you look... beautiful."
 
Nazrin leaned back slightly, the fabric of her crop top stretching taut over her breasts. She took a moment to appreciate the raw need in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated at the sight of her. "Thank you, Arun," she said, her voice a seductive purr that seemed to wrap around him like a warm embrace. "It means a lot to me that you think so."
 
Arun nodded, his gaze lingering on her lips. He wanted to taste her again, to claim her mouth in a passionate kiss that would leave them both breathless. But he knew the boundaries, the unspoken rules of their game. He took a deep breath and stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides. "I'll go now, ma'am," he murmured, his voice a thick, sweet agony.
 
Nazrin watched him leave, her eyes never leaving his retreating form until the door clicked shut behind him. She collapsed onto the couch, her body humming with unfulfilled desire. The house was eerily quiet, the darkness pressing in on her like a lover's embrace. Her hand strayed to her shorts, her fingers slipping under the wet fabric to find the slickness between her legs.
 
Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm of want and need. She had never felt so alive, so hungry for something that she knew she couldn't have. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, the ticking a taunting reminder of the hours that stretched out before her, each one a silent promise of release that remained maddeningly out of reach.
 
Nazrin knew that her hand wouldn't be enough tonight. She had tasted the forbidden fruit of desire, and now she craved a dick. Her mind conjured images of Muthu, Praveen, and even Arun, their eyes dark with lust, their bodies poised to give her the satisfaction she so desperately needed. She bit her bottom lip, the taste of them still lingering on her tongue from their shared moments of passion.
 
Her eyes strayed to the clock again, the red digits glaring back at her like an accusation. It was 10:30 PM, and Fahim's empty chair was a silent reminder of his absence. She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over his contact. With a sigh, she dialed his number, the sound of the ringing echoing through the empty house like a sad melody.
 
When he finally answered, his voice was distracted, the murmur of his colleagues a backdrop to his muffled greeting. "Babe, it's too late," she said, trying to keep the desperation from her voice. "Come home."
 
"Naz, I can't," Fahim replied, the sound of shuffling papers punctuating his words. "I have a lot of work tonight."
 
Her eyes fell to the couch cushion, the imprint of Arun's body still visible. "But, Fahim," she protested, her voice a soft whine that she knew he'd find unbearable. "I've been waiting for you."
 
There was a pause on the line, the sound of his sigh a knife twisting in her gut. "I know, Naz," he said, his voice filled with the weariness of a man who'd given up trying to satisfy a woman who never seemed to be satisfied. "But it's an emergency. I have to stay."
 
Nazrin's eyes narrowed, the frustration coiling in her belly like a snake ready to strike. "How much longer?" she asked, her voice tight.
 
"I don't know," Fahim replied, his tone filled with the same tired apology that had become a refrain in their conversations. "It might be a few more hours. I'm sorry."
 
Nazrin's hand tightened around the phone, the plastic creaking under her grip. "It's fine," she said, her voice a brittle shell that barely contained the turmoil of her emotions. "Just... come home as soon as you can."
 
Fahim's voice was a distant murmur as he reassured her, his words a meaningless blur. She ended the call, the sudden silence of the room pressing down on her like a weight. The digital clock on the wall read 10:30 PM, the red digits a stark reminder of the hours that stretched out before her, hours filled with nothing but her own insatiable desires.
 
With a resigned sigh, Nazrin opened her WhatsApp, her eyes scanning the group chat with Muthu and Praveen. There were no new messages, no signs of life from the two boys who had so recently brought her to the brink of ecstasy. She typed out a casual "Hey guys," her thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before she finally hit it.
 
Her phone buzzed almost immediately, the screen lighting up with a flurry of responses. "Ma'am," Muthu's message read, "We've been waiting for you."
 
Nazrin told them about her husbands' being late at work.
 
Praveen's response was swift and eager. "How can we help you pass the time?" His words were loaded with innuendo, and Nazrin felt her body respond, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her bra. The thought of them, waiting for her, anticipating her every move, filled her with a heady sense of power.
 
Muthu's message followed, his words a little more direct. "Tell us about the movie, ma'am. Did you enjoy the show?"
 
Nazrin leaned back into the couch cushions, her mind replaying the day's events. She had enjoyed the movie, but it was the aftermath that had left her craving more. She described the plot in detail, her voice a little shaky as she remembered the daring act she had performed in the empty theater. "But the best part," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "was the hugging afterward."
 
The silence on the other end of the chat was filled with anticipation. "The hugging!!!" Muthu echoed, his tone eager.
 
"Yes," Nazrin replied, her voice a siren's call. "The way you both held me so close, your hands on my body... it was intoxicating." She closed her eyes, her fingers tracing the path of their touch on her skin. "I felt... alive."
 
Praveen's message was quick to follow, the screen lighting up with his words. "Ma'am, your neck was so tasty," he wrote, the memory of her pulse racing beneath his lips. "I could have licked you all night."
 
Muthu chimed in, his message a little more crude but no less earnest. "Ma'am," he typed, "the way your boobs felt against my chest was smoother than silk."
 
Nazrin felt a thrill at their words, the heat of their desire pulsing through the phone screen. She had never felt so desired, so alive. Her hand drifted to her chest, her fingers tracing the outline of her nipples beneath the wet fabric of her crop top.
 
"Your words make me feel... wanted," she replied, her voice a soft purr that seemed to echo through the quiet house. "To think that you both were thinking about me like that, it's... amazing."
 
Muthu's response was swift, his excitement palpable. "Ma'am, did you try the clothes we bought today?" he asked, his curiosity piqued by the thought of her in the sexy outfits they had chosen for her.
 
Nazrin stood up, the couch cushion sticking slightly to her damp skin. She didn't bother to reply, instead walking towards the full-length mirror in her bedroom. The floorboards creaked softly under her bare feet, the sound a gentle reminder of the emptiness of the house. She paused in front of the mirror, her eyes tracing the contours of her body, the way the crop top clung to her curves, the way the denim shorts hugged her hips.
 
Her hand hovered over her phone, the screen a gateway to the two young men who had captured her imagination and her desires. With a flick of her wrist, she opened the camera app and held the phone at arm's length. The reflection in the mirror showed her flushed cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes, but she focused on the way her breasts looked in the red crop top, the way the fabric outlined her erect nipples.
 
With a seductive smirk, she snapped the photo, the flash illuminating the room in a brief burst of white light. The image was stark, a testament to her newfound power and the depth of her sexuality. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she sent the picture to Muthu and Praveen, watching the chat bubbles pop up with their names, signaling that they had received it.


 
Their replies were almost instantaneous, a symphony of adoration that flooded her screen. "Ma'am, you look absolutely stunning," Praveen wrote, his words a declaration of worship.
 
Muthu's response was equally as fervent. "Your body is a masterpiece," he typed, his thumbs flying over the keyboard with a feverish excitement. "I can't wait to see the rest of the outfits we picked out."
 
Nazrin felt a thrill at their reactions, the power of her newfound sexuality coursing through her veins like a drug. She decided to play along, enjoying the thrill of the game. "One per day," she replied, her voice a sweet promise that hung in the air like the scent of ripe fruit.
 
Praveen's response was a playful pout. "But ma'am, I want to hug you in that dress right now."
 
Nazrin's smile grew as she typed back, enjoying the thrill of their eager anticipation. "Patience, boys," she replied.
 
Muthu was the first to respond. "Ma'am," he wrote, his voice a desperate whine, "We'll be here, waiting."
 
Nazrin's heart raced at the thought of their eager young hands on her body. She knew she was playing with fire, but the thrill was too intoxicating to resist. Her mind drifted to the day she had spent with them, their hands exploring her body in the darkness of the theater, their mouths on her skin like a brand.
 
With a sly smile, she sent them a message. "Ok, now I sent you the pic. Send me yours, guys." She knew what she was asking for, the image of their naked bodies burned in her mind like a candle in a dark room. The anticipation was almost unbearable as she waited for their replies, her hand slipping into the waistband of her shorts to stroke the bare skin beneath.
 
Her phone buzzed, and she held her breath as she opened the messages. To her surprise, instead of the explicit photos she had hoped for, she found two pictures of Muthu and Praveen, each shirtless and wearing only their underwear. The V-shaped fabric hugged their hips, leaving their bulges visible and tantalizing. They had clearly coordinated their teasing, and the sight of their muscular torsos made her stomach flip with excitement.

 


"Was hoping to see you guys naked," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but her heart racing with anticipation. The line between playful banter and reality was blurring, and she knew that the thrill of the chase was only making her want them more.
 
Praveen responded with a wink emoji, his message playful yet charged with meaning. "Ma'am, we haven't seen you naked yet," he wrote, his words hanging in the digital ether like a challenge.
 
Muthu followed suit, his message a blend of seduction and cheekiness. "Ma'am, we're just getting started," he sent, the ellipsis trailing off like the promise of something more.
 
Praveen chimed in, his tone more serious. "Ma'am, your beauty keeps us awake at night."
 
Nazrin felt a thrill at their words, the power she held over them like a heady perfume. She sent them a kiss emoji and typed, "Oh, you naughty boys. Go to sleep now, and dream of me." She knew they would be masturbating to the image she had sent, their hands moving in the darkness of their own rooms, their thoughts consumed by her.
 
With a seductive smile, she set her phone aside and stripped off her clothes, letting them fall to the floor like discarded pieces of her old life. Standing naked before the mirror, she ran her hands over her body, feeling the heat of her skin, the slickness between her legs. She climbed into bed, the cool sheets a stark contrast to the fire that burned within her.
 
Nazrin picked up her phone, the images of Muthu and Praveen in their underwear a siren's call that she couldn't resist. Her breath grew ragged as she stared at the bulges in the photos, imagining what lay beneath the fabric. She trailed her fingers over her breasts, her nipples hardening at the thought of their eager eyes on her. Her hand drifted down, her fingers finding the warmth between her legs.
 
With a whispered moan, she inserted two fingers into her wetness, the sensation making her hips buck. She began to pump them in and out, her movements growing more frantic as she whispered their names like a mantra. The emptiness of the house only amplified the sound of her breathing, the wetness of her cunt, and the throb of her clit. Her eyes never left the photos, her mind racing with images of their hands on her, their mouths on her skin.
 


Her other hand reached for her phone, her thumb swiping to enlarge the images of Muthu and Praveen. The bulges in their underwear seemed to pulse with each stroke of her fingers, as if beckoning her to touch them, to see them. The desire grew into a crescendo, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she pictured herself on her knees, their dicks in her mouth, their hands tangled in her hair.
 
"Muthu," she moaned, her voice echoing through the quiet room, as she pushed her fingers deeper inside herself. The name rolled off her tongue like a sweet incantation, a declaration of her yearning. Her other hand found her clit, the sensitive bud swollen and aching for attention. She rubbed it in tight circles, her hips thrusting against her palm as she imagined Praveen's fingers playing her body like a maestro.
 
Her breath grew ragged, her chest heaving as she increased her pace. The images of the boys in their underwear filled her mind, their erections straining against the fabric. "Praveen," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. Her thumb swiped over the screen, switching to Muthu's photo, then back to Praveen's, as if she could somehow bring them to her through the digital veil.
 
Suddenly, Arun's face swam into her thoughts, his soft, sweet kisses a stark contrast to the roughness of the students' embraces. Her body responded with a jolt of electricity, her hand moving faster over her clit. "Oh yes," she murmured, her voice a soft crescendo that seemed to fill the room. The memory of his innocence was a drug, a gentle high that made her crave the harder edge of Muthu and Praveen's desire.
 
Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body arching off the bed, the muscles in her stomach tightening as she cried out. She rode the wave, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she felt the warmth spread through her core. The room spun around her, the darkness a comforting embrace that held her as she shuddered with pleasure.
 
When the storm had passed, Nazrin lay back, her chest heaving. She felt empty, the void inside her only temporarily filled by her own touch. Her eyes fell on the photos of Muthu and Praveen on her phone, their smirks taunting her from the screen. She knew that the real thing would be so much better, the feel of their flesh beneath her fingertips, the taste of their skin on her tongue.
 
With a sigh, she set the phone aside and curled into a tight ball, her legs drawn up to her chest. She slept in the same position she had when she was a child, seeking comfort in the fetal embrace. Her dreams were a tumultuous blend of the innocent and the illicit, her mind conjuring images of the three young men who had come to dominate her thoughts.