15-09-2024, 08:15 AM
Anita's hand trembles as she inserts her key into the lock, her heart pounding so loudly she's certain her fiancé will hear it from inside. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before pushing the door open. "I'm home!" she calls out, her voice wavering slightly. She winces at how hoarse she sounds, her throat still raw from her boss’s brutal face-fucking.
Arijit's reply comes from the living room, oddly strained. "Welcome back."
Anita steps inside, her body aching with every movement. She can feel Supratim's seed still leaking from her, staining her panties. The thought makes her cheeks flush with shame and lingering arousal. As she rounds the corner, she sees her fiance on the couch, his posture tense. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, Anita fears he somehow knows everything. But no, that's impossible. She forces a smile.
"Long day at work." she says, trying to keep her tone light. "I'm just going to freshen up."
Arijit nods, his gaze oddly intense. "Everything okay? You seem... off."
Panic flares in Anita's chest. "Just tired," she lies, already backing towards the bathroom. "Nothing a hot shower won't fix."
Once inside, she locks the door and leans against it, exhaling shakily. She strips quickly, surveying the damage in the mirror. Bruises bloom across her hips where Supratim gripped her. Bite marks mar her breasts and neck. Her lips are swollen, her hair a tangled mess.
"Fuck!!" she whispers, tears pricking her eyes. How is she going to hide this?
She steps into the shower, hissing as the hot water hits her sensitized skin. As she washes, she can't help but remember Supratim's hands on her body, his cock stretching her so deliciously full. Guilt and arousal war within her. After scrubbing herself raw, Anita steps out and carefully applies concealer to the visible marks. She dresses in long sleeves and pants despite the warm weather, desperate to hide any evidence of her infidelity.
When she emerges, Arijit is in the kitchen, his back to her. "Want some dinner?" he asks, his voice oddly flat.
"I'm not really hungry." Anita replies, her stomach churning with anxiety. "Think I'll just head to bed early."
Arijit turns, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... different."
Anita forces another smile, praying he can't see through her facade. "Just exhausted. Big project at work, you know how it is."
She approaches him, her heart racing. Should she kiss him? Will he taste Supratim on her lips? In the end, she settles for a quick peck on the cheek, ignoring the way Arijit stiffens at her touch.
"Goodnight," she murmurs, retreating to the bedroom.
As she lies in bed, Anita's mind races. The sheets feel wrong against her skin, tainted by her betrayal. She can still feel Supratim inside her, can still hear his grunts of pleasure mixing with her own wanton moans. In the living room, she hears Arijit moving around, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. How long can she keep this secret? And what will happen when the truth inevitably comes to light?
Anita closes her eyes, but sleep eludes her. The memory of Supratim's domination haunts her dreams, leaving her torn between shame and a perverse longing for more.
Arijit’s emotions:
As Arijit watches Anita's retreating form, his mind churns with dark suspicions. Her hoarse voice and disheveled appearance set off alarm bells. He knows intimately the sound of her throat after it's been thoroughly used, and the way she winces with each step speaks volumes.
The way she avoids his gaze, her nervous energy - it's all too familiar. Guilt radiates off her in waves, confirming his worst fears about what transpired in Supratim's office. Her hasty retreat to the shower doesn't escape his notice either. Is she trying to wash away the evidence of her infidelity? The thought of her boss’s seed dripping down her thighs makes his stomach churn with a mixture of revulsion and perverse arousal. The long sleeves and pants despite the warm weather scream of concealment. What marks is she hiding beneath the fabric? Bruises from Supratim's rough handling? Bite marks declaring his ownership? Her lack of appetite is telling. Is she still full from swallowing Supratim's load? The image of Anita on her knees, eagerly devouring their boss's cock, flashes unbidden through Arijit's mind.
The quick, almost reluctant peck on his cheek feels like a slap in the face. Does she fear he'll taste another man on her lips? Or is she simply disgusted by his touch after experiencing Supratim's dominance? As Anita disappears into their bedroom, Arijit is left with a sickening certainty. His fiancée has been thoroughly claimed by another man, right under his nose.
As Arijit lies rigidly beside Anita in their shared bed, sleep eludes him entirely. His mind races with vivid, torturous replays of the afternoon's events. The sight of Anita, his beloved fiancée, bent over her boss’s desk, riding him on the floor, etc., her face contorted in ecstasy as she was ruthlessly pounded. The sound of her desperate, wanton moans echoing through the office door. The way she begged Supratim for more, harder, deeper - pleas she'd never uttered to Arijit himself.
As Anita shifts beside him in her sleep, Arijit tenses. He can smell the lingering scent of her shower gel, but underneath, his imagination conjures the musk of sex and Supratim's cologne. He wonders if she's dreaming of her illicit encounter, if even in sleep she longs for Supratim's touch.
The night stretches endlessly before him, each second an eternity of torment. Arijit knows that nothing will ever be the same again. Their relationship, his self-respect, his very identity - all have been irreparably shattered by what he witnessed.
The next day:
Morning arrives soon after as filters through the curtains, casting a harsh glare on the couple's shared bed. Anita stirs first, her body aching in ways that instantly bring memories of yesterday flooding back. She glances at Arijit, still feigning sleep beside her, and guilt twists in her gut. As she rises, wincing at the soreness between her thighs, Anita catches sight of herself in the mirror. A bruise peeks out from her collar - one she thought she'd hidden. Panic flares as she quickly adjusts her nightshirt.
In the kitchen, she busies herself making coffee, her movements stiff and awkward. The routine feels alien now, tainted by her betrayal. Every clink of a mug sounds like an accusation. Arijit emerges, dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless night. Their gazes meet, and for a moment, the air crackles with unspoken tension.
"Morning," Anita manages, her voice unnaturally high. "Coffee?"
Arijit nods, unable to form words. As he approaches, Anita tenses involuntarily. Does he smell her boss on her? Can he somehow sense the lingering evidence of her infidelity? They move around each other in a clumsy dance, hyperaware of every accidental brush or near-touch. Anita's mind races, replaying every moan and whimper she'd made under Supratim's ministrations. Arijit, for his part, can't stop staring at Anita's neck, at the hint of bruising he glimpsed earlier. His imagination runs wild, picturing Supratim's mouth there, marking her as his. The thought makes him sick with jealousy and, to his disgust, a perverse excitement.
"Big day at work?" he finally asks, his tone carefully neutral.
Anita nearly drops her mug. "Uh, yeah." she stammers. "Lots to do. Might be home late again."
The implication hangs heavy in the air. Arijit's knuckles whiten around his coffee cup. Will she be with Supratim again? The thought both infuriates and arouses him. As they prepare to leave, their usual goodbye kiss becomes an awkward ordeal. Anita hesitates, wondering if Arijit will taste Supratim on her lips. Arijit pauses, remembering where those lips were yesterday. In the end, they settle for a stilted peck on the cheek.
Anita's phone buzzes just as she's about to leave. Her heart leaps into her throat when she sees Supratim's name on the screen. With a furtive glance at Arijit, she answers, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Good morning, Anita." Supratim's deep, commanding voice sends shivers down her spine. "I hope you're not too... sore after yesterday's rigorous activities?"
Anita's cheeks burn as she stammers, "I-I'm fine, sir. Thank you."
"Excellent," he purrs, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I must say, you surprised me yesterday. I didn't expect such... enthusiasm from you. Did you enjoy yourself, Anita?"
She can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and her body responds traitorously, a damp heat blooming between her thighs. "Y-yes, sir," she admits, her voice barely audible.
"Good girl." her boss says, the praise making her weak at the knees. "Now, about that business trip we discussed last week. The client has confirmed the dates. We'll be leaving this Thursday for a long weekend in Puri." Anita's eyes widen. A whole weekend with her boss? Her pulse races at the thought.
"This is a crucial meeting for expanding our business," he continues. "Your presentation will be key to securing this client. I trust you'll be thoroughly prepared?"
"Of course, sir." Anita manages, her mouth dry.
"Excellent. Now, I've made all the necessary arrangements," Supratim adds, his voice taking on a reassuring tone. "We'll have separate hotel rooms, of course. I wouldn't want you to feel... uncomfortable." Despite his words, Anita detects a hint of suggestion in his voice that makes her shiver with anticipation.
"I appreciate that, sir." she replies, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Wonderful. We'll discuss the details further when you arrive at the office. Don't keep me waiting, Anita." The line goes dead, leaving Anita trembling. She turns to find Arijit watching her, his expression unreadable.
"Everything okay?" he asks, his voice strained.
Anita forces a smile, guilt and excitement warring within her. "Just work stuff." she says. "Actually, I forgot to mention... I have a business trip coming up. Leaving Thursday for the weekend."
Arijit's face pales slightly, but he nods. "Oh. Who’s going?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral.
"M-my boss." Anita admits, unable to meet his eyes. "It's an important client meeting. I'm doing a presentation." The silence that follows is deafening. Despite Supratim's assurance of separate rooms, both Anita and Arijit seem to sense the underlying current of possibility. Her body thrums with anticipation, even as shame gnaws at her conscience.
"Well," Arijit finally says, his voice hollow, "Good luck! I hope it's... productive."
As Anita leaves, the weight of her deceit heavy on her shoulders, she can't help but wonder: What twisted delights await her on this trip? And how will her relationship with Arijit survive the aftermath of whatever transpires in Puri?
Arijit's reply comes from the living room, oddly strained. "Welcome back."
Anita steps inside, her body aching with every movement. She can feel Supratim's seed still leaking from her, staining her panties. The thought makes her cheeks flush with shame and lingering arousal. As she rounds the corner, she sees her fiance on the couch, his posture tense. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, Anita fears he somehow knows everything. But no, that's impossible. She forces a smile.
"Long day at work." she says, trying to keep her tone light. "I'm just going to freshen up."
Arijit nods, his gaze oddly intense. "Everything okay? You seem... off."
Panic flares in Anita's chest. "Just tired," she lies, already backing towards the bathroom. "Nothing a hot shower won't fix."
Once inside, she locks the door and leans against it, exhaling shakily. She strips quickly, surveying the damage in the mirror. Bruises bloom across her hips where Supratim gripped her. Bite marks mar her breasts and neck. Her lips are swollen, her hair a tangled mess.
"Fuck!!" she whispers, tears pricking her eyes. How is she going to hide this?
She steps into the shower, hissing as the hot water hits her sensitized skin. As she washes, she can't help but remember Supratim's hands on her body, his cock stretching her so deliciously full. Guilt and arousal war within her. After scrubbing herself raw, Anita steps out and carefully applies concealer to the visible marks. She dresses in long sleeves and pants despite the warm weather, desperate to hide any evidence of her infidelity.
When she emerges, Arijit is in the kitchen, his back to her. "Want some dinner?" he asks, his voice oddly flat.
"I'm not really hungry." Anita replies, her stomach churning with anxiety. "Think I'll just head to bed early."
Arijit turns, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you're okay? You seem... different."
Anita forces another smile, praying he can't see through her facade. "Just exhausted. Big project at work, you know how it is."
She approaches him, her heart racing. Should she kiss him? Will he taste Supratim on her lips? In the end, she settles for a quick peck on the cheek, ignoring the way Arijit stiffens at her touch.
"Goodnight," she murmurs, retreating to the bedroom.
As she lies in bed, Anita's mind races. The sheets feel wrong against her skin, tainted by her betrayal. She can still feel Supratim inside her, can still hear his grunts of pleasure mixing with her own wanton moans. In the living room, she hears Arijit moving around, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. How long can she keep this secret? And what will happen when the truth inevitably comes to light?
Anita closes her eyes, but sleep eludes her. The memory of Supratim's domination haunts her dreams, leaving her torn between shame and a perverse longing for more.
Arijit’s emotions:
As Arijit watches Anita's retreating form, his mind churns with dark suspicions. Her hoarse voice and disheveled appearance set off alarm bells. He knows intimately the sound of her throat after it's been thoroughly used, and the way she winces with each step speaks volumes.
The way she avoids his gaze, her nervous energy - it's all too familiar. Guilt radiates off her in waves, confirming his worst fears about what transpired in Supratim's office. Her hasty retreat to the shower doesn't escape his notice either. Is she trying to wash away the evidence of her infidelity? The thought of her boss’s seed dripping down her thighs makes his stomach churn with a mixture of revulsion and perverse arousal. The long sleeves and pants despite the warm weather scream of concealment. What marks is she hiding beneath the fabric? Bruises from Supratim's rough handling? Bite marks declaring his ownership? Her lack of appetite is telling. Is she still full from swallowing Supratim's load? The image of Anita on her knees, eagerly devouring their boss's cock, flashes unbidden through Arijit's mind.
The quick, almost reluctant peck on his cheek feels like a slap in the face. Does she fear he'll taste another man on her lips? Or is she simply disgusted by his touch after experiencing Supratim's dominance? As Anita disappears into their bedroom, Arijit is left with a sickening certainty. His fiancée has been thoroughly claimed by another man, right under his nose.
As Arijit lies rigidly beside Anita in their shared bed, sleep eludes him entirely. His mind races with vivid, torturous replays of the afternoon's events. The sight of Anita, his beloved fiancée, bent over her boss’s desk, riding him on the floor, etc., her face contorted in ecstasy as she was ruthlessly pounded. The sound of her desperate, wanton moans echoing through the office door. The way she begged Supratim for more, harder, deeper - pleas she'd never uttered to Arijit himself.
As Anita shifts beside him in her sleep, Arijit tenses. He can smell the lingering scent of her shower gel, but underneath, his imagination conjures the musk of sex and Supratim's cologne. He wonders if she's dreaming of her illicit encounter, if even in sleep she longs for Supratim's touch.
The night stretches endlessly before him, each second an eternity of torment. Arijit knows that nothing will ever be the same again. Their relationship, his self-respect, his very identity - all have been irreparably shattered by what he witnessed.
The next day:
Morning arrives soon after as filters through the curtains, casting a harsh glare on the couple's shared bed. Anita stirs first, her body aching in ways that instantly bring memories of yesterday flooding back. She glances at Arijit, still feigning sleep beside her, and guilt twists in her gut. As she rises, wincing at the soreness between her thighs, Anita catches sight of herself in the mirror. A bruise peeks out from her collar - one she thought she'd hidden. Panic flares as she quickly adjusts her nightshirt.
In the kitchen, she busies herself making coffee, her movements stiff and awkward. The routine feels alien now, tainted by her betrayal. Every clink of a mug sounds like an accusation. Arijit emerges, dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless night. Their gazes meet, and for a moment, the air crackles with unspoken tension.
"Morning," Anita manages, her voice unnaturally high. "Coffee?"
Arijit nods, unable to form words. As he approaches, Anita tenses involuntarily. Does he smell her boss on her? Can he somehow sense the lingering evidence of her infidelity? They move around each other in a clumsy dance, hyperaware of every accidental brush or near-touch. Anita's mind races, replaying every moan and whimper she'd made under Supratim's ministrations. Arijit, for his part, can't stop staring at Anita's neck, at the hint of bruising he glimpsed earlier. His imagination runs wild, picturing Supratim's mouth there, marking her as his. The thought makes him sick with jealousy and, to his disgust, a perverse excitement.
"Big day at work?" he finally asks, his tone carefully neutral.
Anita nearly drops her mug. "Uh, yeah." she stammers. "Lots to do. Might be home late again."
The implication hangs heavy in the air. Arijit's knuckles whiten around his coffee cup. Will she be with Supratim again? The thought both infuriates and arouses him. As they prepare to leave, their usual goodbye kiss becomes an awkward ordeal. Anita hesitates, wondering if Arijit will taste Supratim on her lips. Arijit pauses, remembering where those lips were yesterday. In the end, they settle for a stilted peck on the cheek.
Anita's phone buzzes just as she's about to leave. Her heart leaps into her throat when she sees Supratim's name on the screen. With a furtive glance at Arijit, she answers, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Good morning, Anita." Supratim's deep, commanding voice sends shivers down her spine. "I hope you're not too... sore after yesterday's rigorous activities?"
Anita's cheeks burn as she stammers, "I-I'm fine, sir. Thank you."
"Excellent," he purrs, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I must say, you surprised me yesterday. I didn't expect such... enthusiasm from you. Did you enjoy yourself, Anita?"
She can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and her body responds traitorously, a damp heat blooming between her thighs. "Y-yes, sir," she admits, her voice barely audible.
"Good girl." her boss says, the praise making her weak at the knees. "Now, about that business trip we discussed last week. The client has confirmed the dates. We'll be leaving this Thursday for a long weekend in Puri." Anita's eyes widen. A whole weekend with her boss? Her pulse races at the thought.
"This is a crucial meeting for expanding our business," he continues. "Your presentation will be key to securing this client. I trust you'll be thoroughly prepared?"
"Of course, sir." Anita manages, her mouth dry.
"Excellent. Now, I've made all the necessary arrangements," Supratim adds, his voice taking on a reassuring tone. "We'll have separate hotel rooms, of course. I wouldn't want you to feel... uncomfortable." Despite his words, Anita detects a hint of suggestion in his voice that makes her shiver with anticipation.
"I appreciate that, sir." she replies, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Wonderful. We'll discuss the details further when you arrive at the office. Don't keep me waiting, Anita." The line goes dead, leaving Anita trembling. She turns to find Arijit watching her, his expression unreadable.
"Everything okay?" he asks, his voice strained.
Anita forces a smile, guilt and excitement warring within her. "Just work stuff." she says. "Actually, I forgot to mention... I have a business trip coming up. Leaving Thursday for the weekend."
Arijit's face pales slightly, but he nods. "Oh. Who’s going?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral.
"M-my boss." Anita admits, unable to meet his eyes. "It's an important client meeting. I'm doing a presentation." The silence that follows is deafening. Despite Supratim's assurance of separate rooms, both Anita and Arijit seem to sense the underlying current of possibility. Her body thrums with anticipation, even as shame gnaws at her conscience.
"Well," Arijit finally says, his voice hollow, "Good luck! I hope it's... productive."
As Anita leaves, the weight of her deceit heavy on her shoulders, she can't help but wonder: What twisted delights await her on this trip? And how will her relationship with Arijit survive the aftermath of whatever transpires in Puri?
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