Adultery Wife helps me become a cuckold

[incest_cuck]

I sighed as I locked the apartment door behind me, grocery list clutched tightly in my hand. The past couple of days had been tense, to say the least. I'd been working from home, ostensibly to catch up on some projects, but in reality, it was to keep an eye on things. The incident with our landlord had left us both on edge, and I wasn't about to leave Aradhya alone if I could help it. As I made my way down the stairs, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. My constant presence had inadvertently cockblocked the brutish plumber who'd been sniffing around Aradhya. Part of me felt relieved - after all, wasn't that the point? To protect my wife? But another part... well, that part was less noble.

The market was busy, teeming with people doing their mid-week shopping. I moved methodically through the aisles, checking items off my list. Onions, garlic, ginger. A bag of atta. Some fresh coriander. My mind wandered as I shopped, replaying Aradhya's story about Mr. Banerjee for the hundredth time. I was reaching for a carton of eggs when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Frowning, I pulled it out, nearly dropping the eggs when I saw my wife’s name on the screen.

Aradhya: Harpreet just arrived. What should I do?

My heart rate picked up. I quickly typed out a response.

Me: Are you alone?

Aradhya: Yes. You're out, remember?

Me: Right, sorry. Listen, if you two decide to... you know... just be careful about noise. Stick to the bedroom - less chance of sound carrying.

There was a long pause before Aradhya replied.

Aradhya: Are you sure? It feels wrong to use our bed.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Was I sure? The image of Aradhya and Harpreet in our marital bed flashed through my mind, sending a jolt of arousal through me.

Me: It's fine. I don't mind. Just be safe.

Aradhya: Okay. When will you be back?

Me: Text me when he leaves. I'll come home after that.

Aradhya: Alright. Love you.

Me: Love you too.

I pocketed my phone, suddenly very aware of my surroundings. Did the old lady next to me know what I'd just done? Could the cashier see the flush on my cheeks? I shook my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. The rest of the shopping passed in a blur. My mind was back in the apartment, imagining what might be happening. By the time I reached the checkout, my palms were sweaty and my heart was racing. Outside, I looked at my watch. It had only been twenty minutes since Aradhya's text. I couldn't go home yet - I'd promised to wait for her all-clear. But the thought of wandering around with bags of groceries while my wife potentially fucked another man in our bed was too much.

I spotted a coffee shop across the street and made my way over. Might as well be comfortable while I waited. The cafe was quiet, just a few patrons scattered around. I ordered a coffee and found a secluded corner table. I pulled out my phone, staring at the screen as if I could will a message to appear. Time seemed to crawl. I sipped my coffee, trying not to check my phone every thirty seconds. My mind conjured vivid images - Aradhya's lips parting in a gasp as Harpreet kissed her neck. Her fingers tangling in his thick hair (so different from Mr. Banerjee's bald pate). The sound of our bed creaking rhythmically...

I shifted in my seat, acutely aware of my growing arousal. This was madness, wasn't it? Sitting in a public place, getting hard at the thought of my wife with another man. But I couldn't deny the thrill that ran through me. An hour passed. Then two. I ordered another coffee, my leg bouncing nervously under the table. What was taking so long? Were they going for multiple rounds? Or maybe they were just talking? I wasn't sure which scenario I preferred. As the third hour approached, I was seriously considering heading home, agreement be damned. But just as I was about to gather my things, my phone buzzed.

Aradhya: He's gone. You can come home now.

My heart leapt into my throat. This was it. I quickly typed out a response.

Me: On my way. Everything okay?

Aradhya: Yes. We'll talk when you get here.

The walk home was torture. My mind raced with possibilities. What would I find when I got there? Would Aradhya be flushed and disheveled? Would the apartment smell of sex? Or would everything be neat and tidy, as if nothing had happened?

As I climbed the stairs to our floor, I felt a mix of anticipation and dread. I paused outside our door, taking a deep breath before inserting my key. The apartment was quiet when I entered. For a moment, I wondered if Aradhya was even there. But then I heard movement from the bedroom.

"Aradhya?", I called out, setting down the groceries.

She appeared in the doorway, wearing the same robe she'd had on when I left. Her hair was slightly mussed, and there was a faint flush to her cheeks.

"Hey!", she said softly. "How was shopping?"

I swallowed hard. "Fine. Uh... how was your afternoon?"

Aradhya bit her lip, a gesture that sent a jolt through me. "It was... interesting. Come sit down. We should talk."

As I followed her to the living room, my eyes darted to our bedroom door. It was closed, but I could swear I saw a slight disarray in the sheets through the crack.

We sat on the couch, a careful distance between us. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure Aradhya could hear it.

"So…", I said, my voice cracking slightly. "What happened?"

Aradhya took a deep breath, her fingers playing with the tie of her robe. "Well, after you left..."

And as she began to recount the afternoon's events, I found myself leaning forward, hanging on every word.

(Aradhya’s narration begins)

After you left, I stood in our bedroom, feeling a mix of anticipation and guilt. I decided to change into that pink nightgown you bought me last month - the one with the lace trim. You know the one, Arijit. It clings to every curve, the hem barely skimming my thighs, with that plunging neckline that leaves little to the imagination. As I slipped it on, the silk felt cool against my skin, making my nipples harden. I looked at myself in the mirror, my heart racing. I was more nervous than usual this time, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I’d just finished with one of my online meetings when I heard Harpreet’s knock. Three sharp raps, just like always. My heart pounded as I walked to the door, my bare feet silent on the floor. I paused for a moment, hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath before opening it. As usual, his massive frame filled the entire doorway. He towered over me, making me feel so small, so vulnerable. When he saw me, his eyes darkened with hunger, roaming over my body. I felt exposed, but also... desired. So intensely desired.

"Oye hoy!", he breathed, his voice low and rough. "You look like a dream, madamji."

As soon as the door closed, he engulfed me in his arms. His rough, calloused hands seemed to cover my entire back, so large and strong. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply, his beard tickling my sensitive skin. I couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped my lips.

"Why you no text me, jaan?", he rumbled, his voice vibrating through me. "I miss you so much these days." His breath was hot against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

I couldn’t tell him about Mr. Banerjee, about what happened. The guilt gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside. I just said you’d been working from home, that I couldn’t risk texting him.

"I’m sorry.", I whispered, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck. "I missed you too."

He seemed to accept that, his hands roaming my body. One large palm cupped my breast through the thin silk, while the other slid down to grip my ass. I could feel his desire pressing against my stomach, hard and insistent, making me acutely aware of our size difference. I led him to the sofa. I walked backwards, my fingers intertwined with his much larger ones. The nightgown rode up with each step, and I saw his eyes following the hem, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. When we reached the sofa, I let myself fall back, pulling him down with me. He loomed over me, his broad shoulders blocking out the light. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air thick with tension.

Then Harpreet’s mouth claimed mine, hot and demanding. His beard scbangd against my chin, a delicious friction that made me moan into his mouth. His hands pushed up my nightgown, rough palms engulfing my thighs. I gasped as his fingers found me, already wet and wanting.

"So wet for me.", he groaned, his accent thicker with arousal. "You drive me crazy, you know?"

But even as my body responded to his touch, arching into him, seeking more, I was tense.

"What wrong, jaan?", he asked, pulling back. His face hovered above mine, concern etched in his features. "You not seem yourself today."

I didn’t know what to say. I felt exposed, vulnerable. That’s when I remembered what you said about the bedroom. "Maybe... maybe we should go to the bedroom.", I suggested, my voice trembling slightly.

Harpreet’s eyes widened. "Bedroom? But that your... I mean, we never...", he paused, but I could see the excitement building in his eyes, mixed with a hint of uncertainty.

I nodded, standing up. "It’s okay.", I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

The walk to our bedroom felt endless, Ari. Each step was heavy with the weight of what we were about to do. When we crossed the threshold, I saw Harpreet take in the room - our photos on the dresser, your clothes in the hamper. For a moment, I thought he might change his mind.

But then he turned to me, and the look in his eyes... I’ve never seen such raw desire. He pulled me to him, his mouth crashing down on mine. We stumbled towards the bed, shedding clothes as we went. My nightgown hit the floor first, pooling around my feet. Harpreet's shirt followed, revealing his broad, hairy chest. His skin was hot against mine, chest hair rough on my breasts. We fell onto the bed - our bed, Ari - his body covering mine completely. Harpreet's mouth was everywhere - my neck, my breasts, my stomach. His beard left a tingling trail on my skin, the slight pain mixing with pleasure. I couldn't help the sounds escaping me - little gasps and moans as he explored my body.

“Ah, Harpreet!”, I whimpered as he took a nipple into his mouth, his beard scratching the sensitive underside of my breast.

But even as my body responded, arching into his touch, I couldn't fully relax. I was still tense, still on edge. My mind kept wandering, thinking about you, about Mr. Banerjee, about the wrongness and rightness of what we were doing. Harpreet must have sensed it, because he paused, looking up at me with concern. From this angle, his face was level with my breasts, his breath hot on my skin. “You still not relax, jaan.”, he said, his accent thicker with arousal. "I know what help. I have cure for tension."

He... he said he was going to make me forget everything, Ari. And then... then he tried.