Adultery Wife helps me become a cuckold

[incest_cuck]

I stepped into our apartment, my heart pounding against my ribs. The familiar scent of my wife’s cooking wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil in my mind. I found her in the kitchen, humming softly as she stirred something on the stove. She looked so normal, so... unaffected. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, she was writhing against our fat, pot-bellied landlord.

"Hey.", I managed, my voice cracking slightly. "How was your day?"

Aradhya turned, flashing me that smile that usually made my knees weak. Today, it just twisted my gut with guilt and confusion. "Oh, you know, same old. Work, chores. How about you?"

I wanted to blurt it out, to confront her about what I saw. The words were there, pressing against my teeth, begging to be released. But then I remembered - the cameras. If I revealed what I knew, I'd have to admit to my own deception. The thought stopped me cold.

"Fine.", I lied, forcing a smile. "Just a regular day at the office."

We fell into our usual routine - small talk about work, discussing dinner plans. But there was an undercurrent of tension, at least on my part. I couldn't stop staring at her, searching for signs of her afternoon tryst. Was that a slight redness on her neck where Mr. Banerjee's lips had been? Were her movements a little stiffer than usual?

As we ate dinner, I tried to steer the conversation towards more revealing topics without raising suspicion. "So, uh, did you have any visitors today?", I asked, trying to sound casual.

Aradhya paused, fork halfway to her mouth. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of... something in her eyes. Guilt? Fear? But then it was gone, replaced by mild confusion. "Visitors? No, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason.", I backpedaled quickly. "Just thought I'd ask."

She shrugged, returning to her meal. The rest of the evening passed in a haze of normalcy that felt surreal given what I knew. We watched TV, Aradhya curled up against me as always. But now, I was hyperaware of her body pressed against mine. When we finally headed to bed, my arousal - which had been simmering all day - reached a fever pitch. As Aradhya changed into her nightgown, I caught sight of faint marks on her breasts. My breath caught in my throat.

"Aradhya?", I said, my voice hoarse. "What are those marks?"

She glanced down, a brief look of panic crossing her face before she composed herself. "Oh, these?" She laughed, but it sounded forced to my ears. "They're from Harpreet. Remember last week when he was here? He got a bit... enthusiastic."

I knew it was a lie. Harpreet hadn't been here in over a week, and those marks looked fresh. But challenging her would mean revealing what I knew. So instead, I nodded, swallowing hard.

"Right, of course.", I muttered.

My beautiful, dusky wife climbed into bed, and I followed, my body thrumming with a confusing mix of arousal and uncertainty. As we lay there in the dark, I couldn't help but replay the scenes from the video feed in my mind. The way Aradhya had gasped as our landlord’s pudgy hands roamed her naked body. The curve of her back as she bent over him. The look of concentration on her face as she took him in her mouth.

The imagery was both revolting and arousing. I pictured Aradhya's full lips wrapped around our landlord's cock, her head bobbing up and down. Did she gag on his length? Did she look up at him with those captivating eyes of hers? The thought of Mr. Banerjee's stubby fingers tangled in her hair as he guided her movements made my stomach churn, yet my own cock twitched with interest. I wondered what went through her mind as she pleasured him. Did she compare him to me? To that low-class plumber Harpreet? The idea that she might have enjoyed it - might have savored the taste and feel of him - sent a confusing jolt of jealousy and arousal through me.

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached for her, pulling her close. She responded eagerly, her lips finding mine in the darkness. As we kissed, I wondered if I could taste our fat greasy landlord on her. The thought should have disgusted me, but instead, it sent a jolt of electricity through my body. My arousal, simmering all day, quickly reached a boiling point. I couldn't get enough of her, my hands roaming desperately over every inch of her body. In my mind, I was reclaiming her, trying to erase Mr. Banerjee's touch with my own. But at the same time, I imagined him there with us, watching as I fumbled with my wife.

My fingers found the hem of her nightgown, roughly pushing it up over her hips. She gasped as I yanked her panties down, my hand immediately finding her pussy already slick with arousal. Was she wet thinking about him? About me? I didn't care anymore. I just needed to be inside her. My sexy wife spread her thighs wider as I positioned myself between them, my cock achingly hard. With one brutal thrust, I buried myself to the hilt in her warm, wet cunt. Her walls clenched around me as she cried out, her back arching off the bed.

Aradhya seemed surprised by my urgency, but she matched it eagerly. Her nails dug into my back as I thrust into her, harder and faster than usual. The familiar tightness built rapidly in my groin, my body betraying me as always.

"Wait!", I gasped, trying to slow down, to make it last. But it was too late. With a strangled groan, I climaxed, my hips jerking erratically against her. The intensity of it left me shaking, pleasure mingling with frustration and shame.

"I'm sorry.", I panted, collapsing onto her. "I couldn't... I didn't mean to..."

Aradhya stroked my back soothingly. "It's okay.", she murmured, but I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Determined to make it up to her, I slid down her body, my tongue tracing the marks left by another man's mouth on her breasts. The wrongness of it all only fueled my determination. As I moved lower, tasting her arousal, I found myself whispering against her skin, "Did you think of me today? When you were alone?"

Aradhya stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. "Of course.", she panted reassuringly. "Always."

It was another lie, but I didn't care. In that moment, lost in the heat of our bodies, the truth didn't matter. All that mattered was the pleasure building between us, the familiar rhythm of our bodies moving together. When she finally came, it was with an intensity that left us both gasping. We collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and satisfied. As our breathing slowed, I pulled Aradhya close, burying my face in her hair. She smelled like she always did - a mix of her shampoo and something uniquely her. There was no trace of Mr. Banerjee's cheap cologne.

"I love you.", I murmured, and I meant it. Despite everything - or maybe because of it - I loved her more than ever.

"I love you too.", Aradhya replied, her voice soft and sleepy.

As she drifted off in my arms, I lay awake, my mind racing. I thought about the stories I'd read online, about husbands who got off on their wives being with other men. Was that what I was now? A cuckold? The word should have stung, should have made me angry. Instead, it sent another thrill of arousal through me. Then it hit me - this wasn't entirely new. The realization washed over me like a cold shower. I'd been this way since Harpreet entered our lives. I remembered the first time I heard about Aradhya being with him, how my initial anger and jealousy had morphed into an unexpected, burning arousal. I'd justified it then - Harpreet was a specimen of masculinity, so different from me. It was natural to be curious, to be excited by the contrast. But Mr. Banerjee? He was everything Harpreet wasn't - old, portly, unattractive, repulsive even. And yet, the thought of him with Aradhya affected me just the same.

The truth was undeniable now. I got off on my wife being with other men. I was aroused by her infidelity, by the idea of her finding pleasure outside our marriage bed. The realization should have shamed me, but instead, it only fueled my excitement. I imagined our landlord’s hands on my wife dusky body, his portly frame pressed against her slim-thick figure. I pictured Aradhya's face twisted in pleasure as she took his cock. And then I imagined myself there, watching it all happen. The possibilities were dizzying. What if I encouraged this? What if, instead of confronting Aradhya, I found a way to watch in person next time? The thought made my spent cock twitch with renewed interest.

As dawn began to break, I finally drifted off to sleep, my dreams a confused jumble of desire and shame. One thing was certain - our lives had changed irrevocably. And despite my initial shock and confusion, I found myself looking forward to what came next.

In the morning, I woke to find Aradhya already up and getting ready for her day of remote work. As I watched her move around the room, I was struck by how normal everything seemed. If I hadn't seen the video feed, I would never have suspected what had transpired yesterday.

"Morning, sleepyhead!", Aradhya said, leaning down to kiss me. "You were really something last night. What got into you?"

I felt my face flush, remembering the intensity of our lovemaking. "Just missed you, I guess.", I mumbled.

Aradhya laughed, a sound that usually filled me with joy but now sent a pang of confusion through me. "Well, it was only a couple of hours. But feel free to miss me like that more often.", she said with a wink.

As she headed to the kitchen to start the coffee, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The questions I couldn't ask last night were still there, pressing against my lips. But so was the excitement, the forbidden thrill of knowing something I shouldn't. I realized then that I was at a crossroads. I could confront Aradhya, demand answers, possibly cause a chink in our marriage. Or I could lean into this new reality, explore the dark desires that had been awakened in me. As I heard Aradhya humming in the kitchen, going about her morning as if nothing had changed, I made my decision. I'd keep quiet, for now. I'd watch, and wait, and see where this path led us.