Adultery Wife helps me become a cuckold

[incest_cuck]

After dinner, Aradhya and I began washing the dishes. The gentle clink of dishes filled the kitchen as I scrubbed a plate, tension thrumming beneath the surface of domestic normalcy. My wife hummed softly beside me, drying each dish I handed her. Her fingers brushed mine with each exchange, sending little sparks of electricity through my skin.

"So," I began, trying to keep my tone casual, "about that plumber today..."

Aradhya's humming stopped abruptly. "What about him?" Her voice was carefully neutral.

I handed her another plate, watching her face carefully. "I couldn't help but notice how you looked at him. And how he looked at you."

Her cheeks darkened slightly, but she kept her eyes fixed on the dish in her hands. "I don't know what you mean, Ari."

"Come on, Aradhya," I pressed gently. "The way your eyes followed him, how you kept asking questions about him after he left. How did it make you feel, seeing him?"

Aradhya set the plate down, her movements slow and deliberate. She didn't meet my eyes. "I was just being polite, that's all. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

I sighed, frustrated by her evasion. "I'm not making a big deal. I'm just asking how you felt."

She turned to face me, arms crossed defensively. "Are you jealous, Ari?" she asked, a note of challenge in her voice.

I chuckled, though it felt hollow. "Maybe a little.", I admitted. "But mostly, I'm curious. You seemed... affected by him."

Aradhya's posture stiffened. "Affected? He fixed our toilet, Ari. That's all." She turned back to the dishes, scrubbing with unnecessary force.

I watched her for a moment, noting the tension in her shoulders. "You've mentioned your thing for tall, dark and handsome Punjabi men before. Your ex-boyfriends from Delhi, for instance?", I said softly, "Harpreet seemed to tick all those boxes."

Her movements faltered for a split second. "That was a long time ago.", she muttered. "It doesn't mean anything now."

"Doesn't it?" I countered gently. "You seemed pretty interested in him."

Aradhya slammed the sponge down, whirling to face me. "What do you want me to say, Ari? That I found him attractive? Fine, yes, he was good-looking. Is that a crime now?"

I held up my hands placatingly. "No, of course not. I just... I want you to be honest with me. And with yourself."

She deflated slightly, the fight leaving her. "I don't know what you want from me," she said quietly.

"Just the truth…", I replied. "How did seeing him make you feel?"

Aradhya was silent for a long moment, her eyes darting away from mine. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Fine! It's not just about looks. It's... it's complicated."

"Try me…", I urged, my heart racing. "Help me understand."

She bit her lip, clearly torn between staying silent and opening up. Finally, she met my eyes, her own dark with a mixture of shame and something else... desire? "It's the way he carried himself." she admitted softly, "The raw masculinity. It's... intoxicating."

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to ask, "Did that make you feel a certain way?"

Aradhya's breath hitched, her internal struggle visible on her face. "Yes," she breathed finally, the word hanging heavy between us. "Sue me, but yes. When I saw him, all I could think about was..." She paused, but I could fill in the blanks. The image of Harpreet's massive hands on Aradhya's delicate frame flashed through my mind again, sending a confusing mix of jealousy and arousal coursing through me.

"Tell me…", I urged, my voice hoarse. "Tell me what you thought about."

Aradhya stepped closer, her body heat radiating against me. "Are you sure you want to know?" she asked, her voice low and husky. As I nodded, unable to speak, I realized we were stepping into dangerous territory. But the pull was irresistible, like gravity drawing us towards an unknown abyss.

"I thought about his hands…", Aradhya began, her words coming faster now. "How they'd feel on my skin, so rough and calloused. I imagined him picking me up like I weighed nothing, pinning me against the wall...", she paused.

"Go on.", I urged softly, my heart pounding. "Tell me more."

She took another deep breath. "It wasn't just physical, though. There was something in his eyes... a hunger, a primal intensity. Like he could devour me whole." Her cheeks flushed deeper, her breathing quickening. "I thought about him taking me, right there in our bathroom. Hard and fast and... and..."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue. "Go on, Aradhya. What else did you imagine?"

She hesitated, her eyes darting to mine. "Are you sure, Ari? This is... it's pretty intense."

"I'm sure.", I said, my voice low. "I want to hear it all."

Aradhya took a shaky breath. "Okay... well, I thought about his voice. That deep rumble, like distant thunder. I imagined him grunting in Punjabi, words I wouldn't understand but could feel in my bones." Her voice grew huskier, eyes unfocused. "I pictured his huge hands on my waist, gripping me so hard I'd have bruises. The calluses on his palms catching on my skin as he..." she continued, her words coming faster now. "I thought about him bending me over the sink. His broad chest pressed against my back, one hand tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to make me gasp." Aradhya's breath hitched, her cheeks flushed. "I imagined the smell of him - sweat and motor oil and raw masculinity. The contrast of his rough stubble against my neck as he... as he..."

She trailed off, her eyes meeting mine, dark with a mixture of arousal and guilt. "Gosh, Ari. The things I imagined him doing to me... It's not right. It's not fair to you."

I swallowed hard, my own breath coming quicker. "It's okay, Aradhya. What else?"

She shook her head slightly, as if trying to clear it. "I thought about afterwards. How he'd probably just zip up and leave without a word, maybe just a grunt of satisfaction. And I... I realized part of me would be okay with that. More than okay." Aradhya's voice dropped to a whisper. "Is that terrible of me? To want something so... primal? So disconnected?"

I could see the conflict in her eyes, the war between desire and propriety. She opened her mouth to speak again, but I could tell she was about to apologize, to try and take it all back.

Before she could, I cupped her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Aradhya, listen to me. It's not terrible. It's... it's human. Raw and honest and incredibly arousing."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're not disgusted? Or hurt?"

I shook my head, surprised to find I meant it. "No, I'm not. I'm glad you felt you could share this with me. Thank you for trusting me with your fantasies."

As we stood there in our kitchen, dishes forgotten, I realized we'd crossed a threshold. The air between us crackled with a new energy, fraught with possibility and danger in equal measure. Her confession hung in the air between us, charged with illicit desires and forbidden fantasies. As I looked into Aradhya's eyes, dark with lust and a hint of fear, I knew our lives had irrevocably changed.

The night stretched endlessly, sleep eluding me as I lay beside Aradhya's sleeping form. Her confession played on repeat in my mind, each iteration more vivid than the last. I pictured Harpreet's massive frame looming over Aradhya's petite figure. His rough, calloused hands sliding over her smooth skin. The contrast was stark - his darkness to her light, his coarseness to her refinement.

My cock twitched, hardening against my will. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it only made the images more intense. Harpreet's thick fingers tangling in Aradhya's hair, yanking her head back. His lips, surrounded by scratchy stubble, attacking her exposed neck. Aradhya's breathy moans filling our bathroom. I imagined her wrapping her legs around his waist as he hoisted her up, pinning her against the tiled wall. The muscles in his arms bulging with the effort, but barely straining under her weight.

My hand drifted down, brushing against my erection. Shame and arousal warred within me. In my mind's eye, the dirty brutish plumber had thrust into Aradhya, hard and deep. No finesse, no gentle lovemaking. Just raw, animal fucking. The kind of primal pounding I could never give her. This made me think of my own sexual shortcomings - how I often finished before Aradhya even got started. How she'd comfort me, telling me it was okay, that she didn't mind. But now I wondered... had she been thinking of men like that plumber all along? The image shifted. Now I saw myself in the corner of the bathroom, watching as that dirty, low-class plumber ravaged my wife. Aradhya's eyes meeting mine over his shoulder, glazed with pleasure I'd never been able to give her.

My cock throbbed painfully. I was rock hard, leaking pre-cum, more turned on than I could ever remember being. What was wrong with me? I should be furious, jealous, heartbroken. Instead, I was achingly aroused. I turned my head to look at my wife. In sleep, her face was peaceful, innocent. But I couldn't shake the memory of her flushed cheeks and dark eyes as she'd described her fantasies. What would she say if she knew the thoughts running through my head? If she knew that picturing her with another man - a man so different from me - was making me harder than I'd ever been?

As the first light of dawn crept through our curtains, I was no closer to sleep. But I was closer to a realization that both terrified and thrilled me: Maybe, just maybe, I wanted to see those fantasies become reality.