Adultery The Cheating Wife ?

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But Javed wasn’t done testing her limits. Rising from her chest, he leaned in for her lips again, determined. Ganga turned away, evading him once more.


Javed (growling with frustration): "Why don’t you just—"

Without warning, Ganga’s hand shot up, and her palm cracked against his face in a sharp slap that echoed through the room. The slap made both Javed and Chacha freeze, shock clear in their eyes as they stopped in their tracks.



Javed rubbed his cheek with a slow smile, leaning close to Ganga, his voice barely above a murmur, laced with amusement.

Javed (smiling slyly): "Madam, did you slap me out of anger... or are you just afraid of the pleasure we were giving you?"

Chacha moved in close, whispering into her ear with a low, taunting tone.

Chacha (grinning): "Yes, madam, are you afraid you might end up wanting to fuck us more than your husband?"

For a split second, Ganga hesitated, her gaze hardening. But then she shot back, her voice edged with defiance.

Ganga (firmly): "Shut up, you bastards, and just finish the game."

Javed and Chacha burst into laughter, their voices echoing through the empty building as they took a step back, satisfied with her response.

Watching this on video, Srinu felt a pang of confusion. That moment of hesitation in Ganga’s response—why had she hesitated? Driven by curiosity, he picked up her diary, hoping to understand her true feelings.

As he read, her words unfolded like a secret confession:

"I slapped that asshole Javed across his smug face. But that shameless bastard didn’t even flinch; he just laughed and started asking those stupid questions. They think they can push me, like I’m one of those women who flirts with strange men and fucks them for fun. But they don’t know me. There are so many women who pretend to be sanskari but are sluts beneath it all. Believe me, Srinu, you’d be shocked to know how many are like that in our own friends and family circles. Even Priya, my best friend who looked so innocent, was a slut from way back in our college days. Priya used to get fucked by the boys in our class. I remember how our seniors would take Priya and other friends upstairs to empty classrooms, where they’d have their group fuck sessions. That’s how slutty Priya was, always acting so innocent in front of everyone."

Srinu paused, his mind flashing back to memories of Priya. She was undeniably stunning, the kind of beauty that had every guy in his circle captivated. He remembered one day when Priya had visited their home. She’d leaned in with a naughty smile, letting her cleavage show just enough to tempt him to come fuck her in the bathroom, while Ganga had been busy in the kitchen.



after that day whenever he thinks of priya he has an instant hard-on in his pants And how much he wanted to fuck her. But he always knew no amount of beauty in this world is worth fucking if it meant losing ganga the love of his life.

He turned back to the diary, letting Ganga’s words pull him in again.

"In college, Priya and others even fucked some of our teachers for better grades. She made me swear never to tell anyone, and being a loyal friend, I never did. It wasn’t just Priya; most of the girls in my college and college brought strangers into their rooms for one-night stands. They didn’t care about our culture, which teaches that a woman should stay pure until marriage. Srinu, you know my family. You know the values my parents raised me with. You wouldn’t believe how many times I was approached, invited to their group fuck sessions. But I never accepted, and I stayed a virgin until our marriage. I knew I had to save myself for my true love—you Srinu."

But then the tone of her writing shifted, her words revealing a hidden layer.

"Srinu, I have to confess… when they asked if I enjoyed being touched by men other than my husband, it woke up a voice buried deep inside me, a voice I tried to silence with my loyalty to you. It’s a voice that’s always questioned me: Am I missing out by saving myself for one person? Am I going to have sex with only one man for the rest of my life? How does it feel for women who experience it with others? These thoughts come to me whenever I see my friends going behind their husbands’ backs."

Srinu set down the diary, his mind swimming. He’d always heard that a woman’s heart was deeper than the ocean, and now, reading Ganga’s most intimate thoughts, he understood. She was a maze of emotions, a complex blend of love, curiosity, and restraint—her desires and fears, all hidden beneath her calm exterior. In those words, he glimpsed the truest depths of her heart.

Srinu replayed the video, his mind fixated on every moment. Javed flipped the coin, his voice calling “heads” just as the coin spun in the air. With a wicked grin, Javed caught it, revealing the result to Ganga. It was heads. Again, she had lost.

Javed (tauntingly): "There you go, madam. You wanted to play, and now you lost."

Chacha joined, stepping close behind her with a grin on his face.

Chacha (leaning in, teasing): "Yes, madam, you lost. Now, you have to remove your clothes."

In the video, Srinu noticed a flicker of thought pass over Ganga’s face. He assumed she might playfully take off something insignificant, maybe a bangle or her hairpin, anything to buy time and keep Javed and Chacha in the game until one of them eventually lost. But as he watched, his anticipation turned to shock at her next move. 

Ganga stood between Javed and Chacha, her heart racing as she felt their eager eyes on her. She lifted her hands to the sides of her langa, her fingers toying with the fabric just above her hips. She hesitated, casting them a daring glance, then slowly began inching the langa up her legs, teasing them with the slow reveal of skin.

The room was silent, save for the slight rustle of fabric. As her langa rose higher, both men stared, their expressions caught between shock and intrigue. Ganga’s hands moved gracefully, sliding beneath the langa, where her fingers found the waistband of her panties. She exhaled, her breath catching slightly as she hooked her thumbs into the thin band.

With a soft shimmy, she wiggled her hips, making the fabric slide gradually down her thighs. She shifted her weight, her hips swaying, her movements deliberate and teasing. The panties inched lower, revealing more of her skin, the anticipation building with each subtle motion.

As the waistband reached her knees, she bent slightly, the lacy fabric sliding down to her ankles. She stepped out gracefully, lifting one foot, then the other, leaving the panties in a small, crumpled heap on the floor. When she straightened, she looked at Javed and Chacha, a bold, defiant gleam in her eye, as if to challenge them. 



Srinu could almost hear her silent challenge: Yes, I just did that. What are you going to do about it?

In her diary, he recalled Ganga’s words, written with a raw honesty that struck him:

"Srinu, I too had no idea what made me remove my panties. I wanted to tease them, to punish them, make them want me without ever letting them have me. But as their hands kept wandering over me, as their eyes devoured me, a voice deep inside—one that I’ve ignored for so long—stirred. ‘What if you just took them off?’ it whispered. There was this voice in my head, something deep and hidden that I’d always suppressed. A voice that whispers when no one else is around, questioning everything I’ve been taught, every norm I’ve been conditioned to follow. This voice, i realized, had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, buried under years of societal expectations. It was the voice that made me question the rules that governed my life: the traditions that dictated how i should dress, how i should behave, and how i should interact with the world. I had suppressed this voice, silencing it whenever it dared to speak up when someone said "Don’t wear those clothes; they’re too revealing. Don’t talk to strangers; they’ll think poorly of you. Keep your pallu over your head when around men; it’s respectful." Each admonition from family and society reinforced my compliance "Why must I cover up? Why must I hide who I am? Why is it wrong to express my desires?" The questions echoed in my mind, demanding answers. 

In the heat of the moment with Javed and Chacha, i felt that voice rise up, overpowering the whispers of doubt and fear. It urged me to break the mold, to embrace my sensuality, to act on my desires without apology. The culmination of years spent repressing that part of myself led to an overwhelming desire to rebel, to feel alive in a way i had never allowed myself before. I wanted to tease them, to see how far I could go without losing myself. I wanted to punish them for the years of suppression by showing them the side of me they thought they could never touch. I didn’t even realize I was doing it, When I removed my panties, it was a moment of pure instinct, a desire to unleash everything I had kept bottled up. It was like a dam bursting, flooding my senses with exhilaration. I wanted to take back the narrative. I wanted to challenge the expectations placed upon me and discover who I truly am beneath the layers of tradition."

As Srinu returned to the screen, he watched Javed and Chacha pounce on her with unrestrained desire. Javed’s hands were immediately on her breasts, his mouth hungrily covering her, while Chacha’s lips found her back, each touch more aggressive than before. The last hints of resistance seemed to dissolve as Ganga let out a soft, involuntary moan, her body yielding to their touch.

Javed’s hands moved deftly to the remaining hooks on her blouse, unfastening them and peeling her blouse off her shoulders, He paused, taking in the sight of her skin, her exposed curves, before moving his mouth to her cleavage his mouth exploring every inch, his hands kneading the soft flesh. His lips moved eagerly, sucking and teasing, as he explored the sensitive skin with his tongue, igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through her. Ganga’s breath hitched, each moan escaping her lips as she Ganga threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth traveled to her breasts, where he paused to take in the sight of her before he began kissing and nibbling gently at her nipples over her bra, alternating between soft kisses and playful bites.



Srinu watched, hoping, just hoping she’d push him away, that she’d resist. But his hope evaporated when he saw Ganga’s lips parted, her tongue slipping out to lick her upper lip, her face lost in pleasure. There was no disgust, no shame—only enjoyment.



Seeing Javed suckling on Ganga's nipples, Srinu’s mind was flooded with memories of just how soft and full her breasts felt. Her boobs had always been the hottest part of her body to him, and he couldn’t resist them, even when they were in public. He remembered how she used to playfully manipulate him, flashing him a hint of cleavage whenever she wanted something from him. All it took was that little tease, and he’d be wrapped around her finger, doing whatever she asked. He would rest his head on her chest, feeling as if her breasts were his two best friends, a source of warmth, comfort, and sheer temptation.

But now, watching a man he considered a third-class laborer, a nobody, munching on her breasts, made him feel sick to his core. It was as if something sacred was being torn away from him. Each kiss, each bite from Javed on the breasts he cherished, made Srinu feel dead inside, a hollow ache growing as he continued to watch.

Chacha was equally relentless in his exploration, Chacha leaned in, his lips brushing softly along her shoulders, starting at the nape of her neck and trailing down, leaving a series of slow, lingering kisses in his wake. Chacha’s lips brushed against her back, warm and slightly damp, pressing kisses along her spine. Ganga’s body responded in small, instinctive movements, her breath quickening, her skin sensitized to each touch. 



He lifted her hair gently with one hand, brushing it aside to reveal the thin strap of her bra resting against her shoulder. His fingers found the strap, and he began to slide it down, his lips following the path, pressing kisses against the newly exposed skin. The contrast between the cool air and his warm breath made her shiver, and as he reached her shoulder, he felt her hand on his, halting his movement.



Ganga (her voice barely a whisper, trembling): “Please… don’t take it off.”

Her words were hesitant, yet her body seemed to say otherwise. There was a slight tremor in her voice, a mix of uncertainty and excitement, as if she was torn between her own desire and an instinct to resist. Chacha leaned closer, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered.

Chacha (softly, a hint of teasing in his tone): “Madam, stop teasing us like this… let us see you completely. Let us explore every part of you.”

Ganga turned her head slightly, her face a mixture of resistance and intrigue, her lips parting as though to respond, but all she managed was a soft, almost inaudible “no.” Yet her body contradicted her words. Her posture, her slight, involuntary movements—all of it hinted that, at least a part of her, was yielding to their touch.



Chacha returned to her back, trailing kisses lower, his mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses that sent shivers down her spine. He moved with slow, deliberate intention, pressing his lips against every curve, every fold, lingering in the small of her back. reaching her hips, his lips tracing every curve, every contour. He took his time, pressing his lips to each fold, tasting the faint, salty sheen of sweat that clung to her skin. She let out soft, involuntary sounds as he continued, her body arching slightly, responding to his exploration. Chacha’s hands found their way to her hips, squeezing them gently as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive area between her back and her waist, inhaling the scent of her skin.



Moving lower, his hands spread across her buttocks, fingers pressing into her skin as he massaged her, savoring the way her body molded under his hands.

Chacha leaned in, bringing his face close to her ass, breathing in her ass as he buried his nose against her. He let his lips press into her butt, taking a mouthful of her flesh between his teeth, biting down gently but firmly, tasting the heat of her skin underneath her langa.