Adultery Wife helps me become a cuckold

[incest_cuck]

The next morning, I woke up early, my mind still reeling from the revelations of the previous night. I decided to work from home that day, knowing we needed to have a serious conversation about what had been happening. As I brewed coffee in the kitchen, I heard my wife stirring in the bedroom.

She emerged, tousled and sleepy-eyed, wearing one of my old t-shirts that barely covered her ass. My cock twitched at the sight, memories of last night flooding back.

"Morning.", she mumbled, accepting the mug of coffee I offered her. "You're not going to the office?"

I shook my head. "Thought we should talk about... you know."

Aradhya nodded, a mix of emotions flitting across her face. We settled on the couch, a careful distance between us. The air felt thick with unspoken words and lingering desire.

"So," Aradhya began, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. "How did you find out? About... Mr. Banerjee and me?"

I hesitated, my mind racing for a plausible explanation that didn't involve revealing the hidden cameras. "I, uh... I noticed some... stains on your clothes when I was doing laundry.", I lied, hoping my face didn't betray me. "And then I saw how Mr. Banerjee was looking at you the other day. I put two and two together."

Aradhya's cheeks flushed, her eyes widening slightly. "Oh gosh, Ari... I'm so sorry. I should've been more careful."

I nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt for the deception. "It's okay. I just... I wish you'd told me."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry, Ari. I know I should've told you from the beginning."

"Why didn't you?", he asked, genuinely curious despite knowing more than I was letting on.

Aradhya took a deep breath. "Honestly? At first, I was ashamed. I didn't want to admit that I'd let him touch me again. But then...", she paused, biting her lip.

"Then what?", I prompted, my heart racing.

"Then I started to enjoy it.", she admitted quietly. "I've been... Gosh, Ari, I've been so fucking horny lately. Ever since Harpreet left-"

I nodded, feeling a surge of heat as Aradhya mentioned his name. The image of the burly, hairy plumber flooded his mind - his thick beard, the dark curls of hair visible beneath his sweat-stained tshirt, those large, calloused hands. I swallowed hard, picturing those hands on my beautiful dusky wife. "And Mr. Banerjee filled that void?"

She laughed, a short, bitter sound. "As much as a fat, aging landlord can, I guess. But it was... exciting. The way he looked at me, like he was starving and I was a feast. It made me feel desired that an older man like him wants me too." Aradhya's eyes darkened with lust. "And he's rough, Ari. He doesn't ask permission. He just... takes. His hands are always grabbing, squeezing. He likes to leave marks."

I shifted uncomfortably, my arousal warring with jealousy. "And you like that?"

She nodded, her cheeks flushed. "I do. It's so different from how you touch me. It's... primal."

"What else?", I asked, needing to know more even as part of me screamed to stop.

Aradhya hesitated, then continued. "He likes to humiliate me. Calls me names. Makes me beg for it."

"Like what? What does he call you?"

"He calls me 'randi' (whore). Sometimes 'chinal' (slut). When he's really worked up, he'll growl 'bhadvi' (bitch)."

The curse words sent a jolt of arousal through me. "And you let him?"

She nodded, her breathing quickening. "I love it, Ari. I love being his dirty little slut."

The admission hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. I took a deep breath, trying to process everything.

"Do you want to keep seeing him?", I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

My wife's kohl eyes widened in surprise. "I... I don't know. Do you want me to?"

The question echoed our conversation from last night, and I felt my face heat up as I remembered my own reaction. "I think...", he said slowly, "that I'm more turned on by this than I should be."

A small smile played at her lips. "I noticed.", she said, her eyes flicking to the obvious bulge in my pants.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. "It's just... I can't believe how much you've changed, Aradhya. Remember how reserved you were before all this started?"

Her face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and excitement in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

I leaned in, my voice low and teasing. "Well, just over a month ago, before Harpreet came to fix our pipes, you were so... proper. So prim and proper. And now look at you."

She bit her lip, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Ari, I-"

"Now you're letting that hairy, working-class plumber have his way with you.", I continued, my cock hardening as I spoke. "And not just him. You're even letting that fat bastard landlord finger-fuck your tight cunt."

Aradhya moaned, her hand sliding between her legs. "Fuck, Ari... when you say it like that-"

"Like what? The truth?", I grinned, enjoying her reaction. "That my prissy wife's turned into a cum-hungry tease, doing everything but letting them pound your needy cunt?"

She gasped, squirming in her seat. "Yes... fuck yes, I have."

I grabbed her wrist playfully, pulling her hand away. "Tell me again, you naughty whore! What slutty things have you done with our old landlord's cock?"

Aradhya's eyes darkened with lust. "I've... I've let him grope my tits, Ari. Shoved his stubby fingers in my wet pussy. I've sucked his wrinkly dick, swallowed his bitter cum. But I haven't... we haven't fucked. Not yet."

My cock throbbed as he pictured it. "But you want to, don't you, you little slut? You want that flabby fuck to stretch your tight pussy?"

Aradhya nodded, panting. "Yes," she moaned. "Fuck yes, Ari. I want to feel his cock inside me. I want Harpreet's cock inside me! I want both their dicks splitting me open, using me like the whore I've become."

My face turned into a wry smile. "Good girl." She smiled at my response, her eyes heavy with lust.

"But, Ari...are you sure about this?", she asked, her hand resting on my thigh. "We don't have to do this if you're not comfortable."

I took a deep breath, considering her words. Was I sure? No. But the thought of Aradhya with our old portly landlord, submitting to his desires, made my cock throb with need. "I'm sure.", I said finally. "But promise me you'll be careful. And that you'll always come back to me."

Aradhya leaned in, pressing her lips to mine, in a soft, sweet kiss. "Always," she murmured against my mouth. "You're my husband, Ari. My love. This... this is just sex."

I nodded. "Good. But we need rules. Boundaries."

"Of course," she agreed quickly. "What did you have in mind?"

We spent the next hour hashing out the details. No unprotected sex. Everything had to happen at our apartment. She had to tell me everything that happened. And most importantly, she could stop at any time, no questions asked. As they talked, he felt a mix of excitement and trepidation.

I pulled her closer. As our kiss deepened, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd unleashed. Would this strengthen our relationship, or tear us apart? Only time would tell.

For now, though, I had lost myself in the familiar curves of my wife's body, trying to push aside thoughts of Mr. Banerjee's hands on her skin. As Aradhya straddled my lap, her wet heat pressing against my hardness, I made a silent vow to himself. I would protect her, no matter what. And if Mr. Banerjee stepped out of line, he would learn just how far I was willing to go to keep my wife safe.

---

The following morning, I woke up early, my mind already racing with plans. As Aradhya sleepily kissed me goodbye before heading out for groceries, I felt a pang of guilt. Once she was gone, I sprang into action. As mentioned before, the camera in the bedroom closet had stopped working a couple of days ago, and I'd been itching to fix it.

I headed to the bedroom, my heart pounding. The tiny camera was barely larger than a button, hidden among the clutter on the middle shelf of the closet. I carefully took it down, examining it for any obvious damage. As I worked on repairing the camera, I couldn't help but think about what I might see through this lens once it was working again: my wife, her skin flushed and glistening as she changed clothes; our landlord's pudgy hands roaming over her body if he ever dared to enter our bedroom, etc. My cock twitched at the thought, and I felt a mixture of arousal and shame.

It took me longer than expected to get the camera properly fixed and reconnected to the app on my phone. By the time I was done, I was sweating and my hands were shaking slightly. I checked the feed one last time, ensuring I could see everything clearly. Just as I was putting away my tools, I heard the front door open. Panic surged through me and I quickly closed the closet door and sprawled on the bed, trying to look natural as my wife entered the bedroom.

She eyed me curiously, her brow furrowing slightly. "Are you okay, Ari? You look a bit frazzled."

I forced a smile, hoping she couldn't see the guilt in my eyes. "Oh, I just finished exercising.", I lied smoothly. "Thought I'd squeeze in a quick workout while you were out." She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my explanation. As she turned to put away some clothes, I pulled out my phone, ostensibly to check emails. In reality, I was opening the camera app, making sure the feed was still working. The rest of the day passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety. I tried to focus on work, but my mind kept drifting to the camera in the bedroom. As lunchtime approached, Aradhya called me to the kitchen. The aroma of her homemade curry filled the air, but my appetite was for something else entirely.

"Ari," she began, her voice soft as she ladled food onto their plates, "are you really okay with... you know... what's been happening when Mr. Banerjee visits our apartment?"

I swallowed hard, my cock twitching at the mere mention of their illicit encounters. "Of course, love. I want you to be satisfied, even if I can't... fully provide that myself." The words stuck in my throat, a bitter reminder of my inadequacies in bed.

Aradhya's eyes softened, a mix of understanding and gratitude flickering across her face. "You're so good to me, Ari. I never thought you'd be so understanding about my... needs."

I reached across the table, taking her hand in mine. "Your happiness is what matters most to me, Aradhya. If exploring with others is what you need to feel fulfilled, then I support you."

She squeezed my hand, her eyes glistening with emotion. "Thank you, Ari. It means so much to hear you say that. You know I love you, right? This doesn't change that."

We ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the weight of our conversation hanging in the air. Then, almost imperceptibly, the atmosphere began to shift. A mischievous glint appeared in Aradhya's eye.

"You know," she said, her tone lighter now, "I can see how much it turns you on. The way your breath quickens when I mention Mr. Banerjee coming over... it's pretty obvious, Ari."

Heat rose to my cheeks, but I didn't deny it. "Maybe a little," I admitted, my voice husky.

Aradhya leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "A little? Come on, Ari. I've seen how hard you get when you come home after he's been here. Tell me, what part excites you most? Is it picturing that fat old landlord's hands on me in our own living room?"

I groaned softly, feeling myself hardening beneath the table, shame and arousal mingling in my gut. "Fuck, Aradhya. You know what you're doing to me."

She giggled, pulling back slightly. "Or maybe it's Harpreet you like thinking about? That tall, muscular Punjabi plumber pleasuring me with his big, rough hands right here on our sofa?"

"Shoot!", I muttered, my cock now fully hard. "You're such a tease, you know that?"

Aradhya's eyes danced with amusement. "You love it though, don't you? Your prim and proper wife turning into such a satisfied slut in our own home."

I leaned forward, my voice dropping to a growl, trying to mask my insecurity with bravado. "Careful, babe. You keep this up, and I might have to bend you over this table and remind you who you belong to."

She licked her lips, eyes dark with desire. "Maybe that's what I want, Ari. Maybe I want my husband to try his best while I tell him all about how other men have made me feel."

The tension between us was electric, charged with unspoken desires, forbidden fantasies, and the ever-present knowledge of my shortcomings. But we both knew this wasn't the time or place to act on them. Instead, we let the moment simmer, savoring the anticipation.

"Well," I said, my voice rough with restrained lust and a hint of resignation, "I guess we'll have to save that for another time, won't we?"

Aradhya nodded, her cheeks flushed. "I guess we will. But don't think I'll forget about this conversation, Ari. I plan to collect on that promise, however long it lasts."

We finished our lunch, the air thick with unresolved sexual tension and unspoken truths. As we cleaned up, our hands brushed against each other more often than necessary, each touch sending sparks through my body. I couldn't help but think about the camera in our bedroom, wondering what secrets it might reveal the next time Mr. Banerjee visited while I was away. The thought both terrified and thrilled me, and I found myself looking forward to his next unexpected drop-in with a mixture of dread, anticipation, and shameful excitement.