Adultery Broken trust and suppressed lust

[Zoz34]

Afrah pov:

Sunday morning, Afrah sat on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram reels. Her feed was full of glamorous women flaunting their sexy waists and perfect curves. She sighed, lingering on one video. Gosh, these ladies have such stunning figures, she thought, a mix of admiration and envy creeping in. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by her sister Insha, who was talking on the phone nearby. "Yeah, exactly! Vishal means bada in Hindi. It’s such a common synonym for big,” Insha said to her friend, laughing lightly.  

Afrah’s scrolling halted at the mention of his name. Her ears perked up, her mind betraying her as it wandered to him. Big, Insha had said, and Afrah’s cheeks flushed at the unintended double entendre.  


Afrah couldn’t stop herself from blushing as her sister’s words echoed in her mind. Vishal means big.She bit her lip, her cheeks heating up. That name suits him perfectly.

Her mind drifted back to the restaurant washroom, to that intense moment when she had held Vishal’s vishal cock in her delicate hand. 

Even now, the thought of it made her feel a little naughty. 

At 11 a.m., Afrah sat on the couch, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Vishal, when her ammi’s voice broke her reverie. Afrah! Where is your Abba? The gas cylinder needs to be changed, and no one is here to help!

Before Afrah could respond, a sudden commotion came from outside, pulling everyone’s attention. The three women hurried to the front door, only to see a man sprawled on the ground next to a fallen bike. A small crowd had gathered, but what caught Afrah’s attention was Vishal standing nearby, looking sharp in a casual shirt and jeans.  

Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. Vishal noticed her immediately, his lips curving into a smirk as he approached. “Hi,” he said casually, ignoring the curious stares from her ammi and sister. “Is this your home?”  

Afrah’s ammi furrowed her brows in confusion, glancing between her daughter and the unfamiliar man. Insha, her younger sister, looked equally puzzled, her gaze darting between them. 

Afrah cleared her throat, “Yes, this is my home,” she replied, then quickly added, “Ammi, this is my boss, Vishal Sir."

Vishal :“Actually, I’m here for a business meeting with Nabeel Faruq. I didn’t realize your house was so close by.”  

Afrah’s ammi’s expression “Oh, welcome, beta,” she said politely, though her tone carried an undertone of curiosity.  

  

Vishal : “I hope I’m not intruding. I just happened to notice the commotion and thought I’d check if everything was alright,” 



Afrah’s ammi (zubeda):“Beta, sit down. I’ll make some chai,” but then stopped abruptly, glancing toward the kitchen. “Oh, the gas cylinder needs to be changed first… Afrah! Call your Abba or someone.”  

 Vishal :“Aunty, please don’t worry. Let me help. It’s no trouble at all.”  

Zubeda:“Beta, you’re a guest. How can I trouble you with such work?”  

Vishal : “Aunty, where I come from, we believe helping is a sign of respect, not trouble. And besides I’m quite good at fixing things—cylinders included.”  

Afrah :“Alright then, if you insist.”  

Vishal : “Aunty, I have to say, Afrah is always singing praises of your cooking at the office. She says no one makes biryani quite like you.”  

  

Zubeda demeanor softened further, visibly pleased by the compliment. “She said that?” Her voice held a hint of pride.  

Vishal:“Oh, absolutely,I’ve even been told your chai is legendary. I think her exact words were Ammi’s chai can fix anything—bad days, long hours, you name it.’

Zubeda finally broke into a laugh, her earlier stiffness fading. “This girl never says such things to my face,”  

 Vishal : “There you go, Aunty. All set!” he fixed the cylinder.

Zubeda: “Thank you, beta. You’ve been a great help. I’ll get the chai ready now—Afrah, bring some snacks for your boss.”  

As Vishal stepped out of the kitchen, he glanced at Afrah, giving her a subtle smirk. She glared at him, knowing exactly what he was doing.


As Vishal settled into the drawing room, Afrah’s ammi joined him, wiping her hands on her dupatta. She took a seat opposite him while Afrah reluctantly sat beside her, still flustered by the morning’s events. 

Zubeda:“So, beta,you said you’re Afrah’s boss? Where are you from?”  

Vishal :“Yes, Aunty. I work with Afrah on several projects. I’m originally from Chandigarh, but my work has brought me here. I"

Zubeda: “That’s good. Hardworking people are always blessed. And you’re so polite! Not all city boys are like this.”  

Vishal:“Thank you, Aunty. I believe respect should always come first, especially when visiting someone’s home. By the way,you have such a warm and welcoming house. It feels like a real home.”  

Zubeda:“That’s very kind of you, beta. It’s not much, but we try to keep it clean and comfortable.”  

Afrah:“Ammi, shouldn’t you be making the chai?”  

Zubeda“Afrah, you should learn to talk properly when guests are here. Beta,Afrah always speaks highly of her work. She’s very passionate about what she does, but I hope she doesn’t trouble you at the office?”  

Vishal :“Not at all, Aunty. Afrah is one of the most hardworking and dedicated people I’ve met. She’s very talented and brings great energy to the team.”  

Zubeda: That’s good to hear. A girl should be independent, but with dignity. I’ve always told her that.”  

Vishal:“Yes, and she carries herself with grace,But don’t worry, Aunty, I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she stays focused.”  

Afrah couldn’t take it anymore. “Ammi, chai?” 

Zubeda “I’m going, I’m going. Afrah, bring some biscuits from the kitchen for your boss.”  

As her ammi left, Vishal : “Your ammi is so sweet, Afrah. I see where you get it from.”  

“Stop it,” Afrah muttered under her breath, avoiding his gaze as she fidgeted with the edge of her dupatta. 

Vishal:“I’m just saying,It’s nice to see you in your element. Very... homely.”  

Afrah shot him a glare but was saved from responding as her ammi returned with a tray of steaming chai. As she handed Vishal his cup, she said, “Beta, you should visit more often. It’s nice having polite, well-mannered people around.”  

“Oh, I’d love to, Aunty,But only if Afrah doesn’t mind.”  


Zubeda:“Why would she mind? You’re always welcome here.”  

Afrah could only groan internally, knowing Vishal had perfectly maneuvered the situation in his favor once again.


 Vishal : "Thank you for the chai, Aunty. It was wonderful meeting you."  

Zubeda:"Beta, you're welcome anytime. Do visit again."  

Afrah walked him to the door, trying to maintain her composure after the awkward conversation about her marriage. But as they reached the threshold, Vishal leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "By the way, Afrah thanks for having me"  

Before she could respond, his hand discreetly brushed over her backside, giving her ass a firm, deliberate squeeze. Her body stiffened, a mix of shock and anger flaring in her eyes as she turned to glare at him. 

Vishal straightened, his smirk maddeningly calm. "See you at the office," he said casually before stepping out.  

Afrah stood frozen for a moment, her heart racing, unsure whether she was more furious or flustered. 

Zubedacalled from the drawing room, "Afrah, what are you doing? Come help me clean up!"  

"Coming, Ammi!" she called back, her voice shaky as she tried to steady herself. But as she returned to the room, her mind couldn’t shake the lingering sensation of his audacity—and the maddening smirk he wore as he left.




After lunch she text Vishal.



Afrah:Aren’t you quite the charmer?  
Vishal:Guilty as charged.  

Afrah: By the way, my Ammi hardly likes strangers, but you managed to win her over.  

Vishal: I have my ways. Besides, I did help her with the cylinder.  

Afrah: Oh, of course, thank you for that.  

Vishal: Only a thank you? That cylinder was heavy, you know.  

Afrah: But you’re muscular, you can handle it.  

Vishal: Ah, so you’ve been paying attention to that. Still, it was hard work. A little goodwill gesture wouldn’t hurt.  

Afrah smiled to herself, a naughty thought creeping into her mind as her fingers hovered over the screen.  

Afrah: Wait for a few minutes. I’ll send you something.  

Her heart raced as she hit send, her mind already teasing her with ideas.



Afrah sat nervously, staring at her phone screen. She had spent two hours perfecting the video, making sure it was just the right balance of playful and seductive. Her fingers hovered over the send button, her lips biting down in anticipation.

She hesitated for a moment, but then with a deep breath, she tapped the button and sent it off.

As soon as it was sent, a rush of heat spread through her, and she hoped, more than anything, that he would like it.


Vishal pov:

It was hectic day but it was nice teasing Afrah he thought.Vishal leaned back in his car seat, his fingers tightening around his phone as a message pinged from Afrah. The screen flickered to life, and there she was, bathed in soft, intimate light. Her face came into focus first, her lips slightly parted, then her teeth bit her lower lips.

Before he could fully absorb the moment, the camera shifted. It jerked downward, fluidly following the path of her hand as it traced a teasing line along the curve of her waist.Her fingers lingered just beneath the fabric of her clothes.


The camera zoomed in, locking on her waist as she moved. Afrah’s left hand slid down her side, fingers lightly tracing the soft fabric that hugged her body. Slowly, her waist began to sway, her hips rolling side to side in a tantalizing, deliberate rhythm. The fabric of her outfit hugged her body like a second skin, stretching taut over her luscious curves with every sultry shift. The soft material shimmered under the light, accentuating the deep dip of her waist and the full, inviting curve of her hips as they moved in perfect harmony. Each roll of her hips created a mesmerizing ripple, her figure arching and flowing like a work of art, every motion an intoxicating blend of grace and raw sensuality.
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He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the video, replaying it over and over, each time sinking deeper into the intoxicating rhythm of her body. 

His fingers itched, imagining the feel of that waist beneath his touch, the smooth, warm skin that had haunted his thoughts. He could almost feel it, the way it would yield to his grip as he pulled her closer, his lips trailing a fiery path along her waist, tasting the salt of her skin. Each kiss would leave her body glistening, not from the light, but from the heat of his saliva, a wet trail of longing and need.


He couldn’t help but think that Afrah had one of the sexiest figures he’d ever seen. That waist—uff, it was intoxicating. She knew exactly what she was doing with it, the way it moved with a confidence that screamed she was fully aware of her power over him. Her waist was seductive, undeniably sultry—slutty in the best possible way. Now, she was sending him this—a thirst trap, no doubt. She was playing him, drawing him in deeper, making it impossible to look away, to resist.


Another video pop up in the massage box:

The video started, and Afrah appeared in a red saree adorned with delicate floral patterns, the fabric catching the light as it dbangd elegantly over her curves. She stood still for a moment, her posture straight and confident, before she raised her left hand to her head, fingers lightly brushing her hair, a subtle hint of grace in the way she moved.

As the music began, a deep, rhythmic beat filling the space, her body responded instinctively. Both her arms flickered outward in quick, fluid gestures. Her hips swayed gently in time with the music, while her waist followed suit, the fabric of her saree flowing with every motion, accentuating the delicate curves of her body.

She turned to her left, her body flowing smoothly with the beat, her hand performing the same graceful gesture as before.

With every twist of her body, her waist became more visible, the delicate fabric parting slightly as she moved, revealing the soft curve of her midriff. Her waist chain hugged her waist just tightly enough to emphasize her feminine shape, accentuating the sensual, rhythmic sway of her body, making her every step a mesmerizing display of grace and allure.


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As the music swelled, her movements became fluid and deliberate. Both hands moved in perfect sync—one tracing her collarbone and sliding down her shoulder, the other following the curve of her waist. Each motion flowed seamlessly with the rhythm, a hypnotic dance of grace.


As her hand moved, the fabric of her saree shifted, parting just enough to reveal the smooth, alluring curve of her waist and the sexy contour of her navel. The soft shimmer of her waist chain caught the light, gleaming as it rested delicately around her midriff.



She twirled once, her body spinning with effortless elegance, showing her left profile.


 The movement was deliberate and seductive.As she spun, her eyes locked into the camera, a playful yet seductive gaze . 

 Her fingers slid over her hips like a slow, teasing caress, moving upward to trace the soft, exposed curve of her waist.As her fingers trailed higher, her hips rolled in a slow, fluid motion, accentuating the thick, tempting curve of her ass that swayed with each deliberate turn. The fabric of her saree clung tightly to her body, highlighting every seductive contour, while the rhythmic sway of her hips and the deep curve of her back created an intoxicating, magnetic dance.

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She swayed her elbows side to side, each movement mirroring the rhythm of her hips. Her body moved in perfect harmony, the gentle roll of her hips matching the fluid motion of her arms, 


Now, both of her arms moved in perfect harmony. Her left arm, with a graceful, fluid motion, descended to her waist, gliding over the curve of her hips as though tracing the essence of her sensuality. Meanwhile, her right arm followed a delicate path along the outline of her chest, fingers grazing the fabric of her saree, teasingly skimming the edges of her neckline, as if inviting the fabric to part with every slow, deliberate touch.

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With a sharp, deliberate motion, she lifted her chest, swaying with the beat as her body moved in perfect rhythm with the music. Her chest rose, accentuating the fullness of her curves as she held the pose, her back arching slightly to create a silhouette that was both powerful and seductive. The movement highlighted every curve of her form, her waist pulling inward as her chest pushed outward, creating a tantalizing tension that was at 
once poised and irresistibly sexy.

---

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Vishal was fully aroused, his body reacting instinctively to the sight of her seductive dance. Each fluid movement, each sensual sway, seemed to intensify the tension, drawing him in deeper. He couldn't tear his gaze away, the rhythm of her body igniting a desire that grew with every graceful, provocative motion.


He couldn’t shake the thought of her seductive dance, the image lingering in his mind. In the days to come, she would perform those same alluring movements before his eyes, each one more captivating and enticing than the last. The anticipation of seeing her in person, moving with such raw sensuality, stirred a deep desire within him, fueling his longing.


As he was about to compliment her, his phone buzzed with a message from Afrah: "By the way, Sri Lanka tour is on."

He paused, his mind briefly distracted. He wondered if Afrah had finally gotten permission from her ammi for the trip. 

It would be a memorable trip for both of them, he thought. The things he planned to do with her would stay etched in her memory for a lifetime. A smirk curled on his lips as the thought fueled his anticipation.



To be continued