26-01-2025, 02:52 AM
(This post was last modified: 28-01-2025, 12:50 AM by Betacucky. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
As I walked towards the bedroom, the scene inside was intensely erotic. Asif was lying on top of Ananya, his strong body confidently pressing against hers. The bed sheets were in disarray, hinting at the fervor that had just occurred. The air was thick with the scent of lavender from the candles and the heavier aroma of sex, forming a heady mix that disoriented me.
Beneath him, Ananya was almost naked, her body glowing with sweat that accentuated her curves. She still wore her black bra, the dark fabric contrasting sharply against her flushed skin, while her lower half was completely exposed. The only other adornments on her body were her bangles, clinking softly with each movement, and her mangalsutra, which lay against her chest—a poignant reminder of our marriage as she kissed him with a passion that was both unfamiliar and deeply unsettling to me.
Asif's erection was formidable, lying thick and ready against Ananya’s thigh, visibly throbbing with readiness. It was a clear signal of what was about to happen.
As I watched them together, I felt a humiliating stiffness between my legs, a stark and unwanted reminder of my deep-seated arousal.
When Asif noticed me at the doorway, he gestured for me to come closer with a commanding wave.
As Asif gestured for me to come closer, the difference between us was stark. His broad shoulders and muscular frame stood in sharp contrast to my own slighter build. His hands, steady and assertive as they motioned me forward, made my own hands look frail; they trembled visibly, the shaking worsening as I stepped closer into the tension-filled room. Asif's confident stance as he towered over both Ananya and me underscored his dominance, making me feel even smaller and more insignificant.
"Nazdeek aa, Ketan. Dekh kaise ek asli mard teri biwi ko santusht karta hai.( Come closer Ketan and look how a real man satisfies your wife)
With a cruel smirk, Asif gestured dismissively at me. 'Dekh Ananya apni pati ki chhoti lulli, (Look at your husband's tiny cock Ananya)' he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. 'Ye kaisa hijda hai? Saala, mujh jaise asli mard ki zarurat hai tujhe.( How is he even a man, you need a real man like me')
As Asif threw crude insults my way, something unexpected happened inside me. His harsh words, meant to humiliate me, strangely made me feel even more excited. Every time he mocked me in that rough mix of Hindi and English, it didn't just embarrass me—it made my body react. My own humiliation was so intense that, to my own disbelief, I felt my lulli twitch. It was confusing and wrong, but the shame and excitement twisted together inside me, making everything even more intense.
Ananya's eyes fleetingly met mine. There was a complex play of emotions across her face—a mix of submission and undeniable arousal. It seemed as if she was struggling, caught between her sorry husband and the overwhelming sensations Asif elicited in her.
I continued looking into her eyes as they quickly followed Asif’s mocking gesture, resting momentarily at my lulli. Her brow furrowed slightly, and the quick, almost pitying shake of her head before she averted her eyes spoke volumes. In that brief look, I didn't just see disappointment; I saw a resignation that felt like a gut punch, reinforcing the depth of my humiliation.
With a malicious grin, Asif shifted his position, showcasing his dominance and skill. He lowered himself between Ananya's spread legs, his eyes locking with mine for a moment to emphasize his control before he turned his attention to her. He began to expertly pleasure her with his mouth, his movements deliberate and practiced. Ananya’s response was immediate and intense; she arched her back, her hands clutching at the bedsheets as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Her moans filled the room, loud and uninhibited.
'Aaahhhhhhhhhhhh...'
she sighed deeply as Asif’s tongue found her most sensitive spots.
'Mmmmmmmmm...'
her voice mingled with the soft clinking of her bangles as her arms moved restlessly by her sides. Asif's pace quickened, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, drawing circles and flicks that sent shivers through her body.
'Ohhhhhhhhhhhh...' Ananya gasped, her voice rising in pitch as her pleasure built.
The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, mingling with the faint smell of lavender from the candles.
Each of her moans was a testament to Asif's skill. Her body responded to him with a raw, primal urgency, her hips bucking slightly to meet his mouth, desperate for more of the exquisite sensations he elicited. She was grinding herself harder on Asif's mouth.
Asif's hands were firm on her thighs, holding her in place as he continued his relentless assault on her senses. Every now and then, he would look up at me, a smirk playing on his lips as he witnessed my pained expression, enjoying the show of my wife's undoing at his hands. This visual connection, his eyes gleaming with triumph and Ananya’s moans of 'Aaahhh... Mmmmmm...' echoing around us, created a vivid scene of my utter humiliation and her abandon."
After Asif's display of expertise had left Ananya moaning loudly in ecstasy, he straightened up, his eyes catching mine with a smirk that spoke volumes of his superiority. The room was still echoing with the remnants of Ananya's loud expressions of pleasure. It was then he directed his commanding voice at me, breaking through the heavy air charged with arousal.
"Make your wife ready for me, little guy," he boomed, the depth of his voice reinforcing his dominance. His words pulled Ananya's attention towards me; her reaction was immediate and cutting. She quickly closed her legs, a gesture of modesty that stung sharply, as it was directed at me—her husband.
The sudden rush of unwanted arousal made my own erection painfully evident. It was embarrassingly small, especially in contrast to Asif’s impressive size. His cock was not only thick and pulsing but also exuded a sense of dominance with every visible throb. In comparison, mine seemed insignificant, barely worth noticing. This humiliating contrast sent a hot flush of shame across my face, underscoring my inadequacy.
Ananya, visibly overwhelmed by the intense situation, clenched her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands, her body quivering slightly from a mix of embarrassment and conflicted arousal. Asif, ever observant, leaned in closer to her, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper. He gestured crudely towards my erection. 'Look at him, Ananya. Even he knows his place, excited by his own humiliations. He's a true cuckold, and deep down, he craves this. And you, you know what you crave, so leave any guilt you have now' he hissed, his words slicing through the tense atmosphere. It was painfully ironic how Ananya, even in her exposed state, found the need to shield herself from me, her husband.
Seizing the moment to further assert his control, Asif reached out and forcefully removed Ananya’s hands from her face, compelling her to confront the reality before her. 'Open your eyes and see what your husband really is,' he demanded, his voice thick with authority and undeniable arousal. As her eyes met mine, the pained realization of her modesty reserved only for me was stark and excruciating.
Asif didn't stop there; he took command over her body like it was his own. Grasping Ananya’s thighs, he spread them wide with a powerful and deliberate action, exposing her fully to my view. The sight was overwhelmingly humiliating. Ananya's pussy, glistening and wet from Asif's oral attentions, was a vivid display of her arousal. This stark contrast to the modesty she had momentarily shown towards me only deepened the humiliation.
As I knelt between Ananya’s spread legs, the warmth and scent of her pussy enveloping me, I began to delicately touch her. Each contact with her skin was a mix of the familiar tenderness we once shared and a painful reminder of the current humiliation. My movements were gentle, tentative, exploring her softly, yet they elicited nothing more than faint whimpers from her—so starkly different from the loud, uninhibited moans she had offered Asif.
Carefully, I started to lick her, trying to rekindle the passion we used to ignite together. Each taste was a bittersweet reminder of our intimacy, yet now laced with the bitterness of the moment. Despite my efforts, her reactions were muted, barely a whisper of sound escaping her lips, her body still except for the slight tensing of muscles under my touch.
Meanwhile, Asif, standing close by, resumed kissing Ananya, his actions assertive and demanding. Unlike my own, his touch sparked visible reactions; she kissed him back fiercely, her body unconsciously reaching out for him. Yet, as I continued my efforts, the contrast became painfully evident—she was responding to him with passion, while to me, it was mere compliance.
Catching the obvious disparity, Asif looked down at me with a smirk, his voice cutting through the tense air with a taunt, You see Ketan she’s not moaning for you like she was for me. You see that, right? You can’t make her feel the way I do.”
His words were a harsh reminder of my inadequacy, echoing cruelly in the room, underscoring the humiliating truth of my new reality. As he mocked me, not only did it deepen the sting of my humiliation, but it also underscored the profound disparity in the pleasure Ananya derived from us. It was a brutal, undeniable declaration of my failings as her husband.
Suddenly, with a swift, forceful motion, Asif grabbed my hair and yanked me upwards, forcing me to face him. His grip was tight and unyielding, pulling a whimper of pain from my lips as I stumbled to my feet. As I stood, Asif’s erection was alarmingly close, its presence imposing and impossible to ignore. It pressed against my belly, its heat and firmness a stark contrast to my own meager arousal.
The size of Asif's cock was daunting—thick, veined, and impressively hard, exuding a dominant aura that overshadowed me completely. Seeing it so close, feeling its warmth against my skin, stirred a confusing mix of fear, humiliation, and an inexplicable urge. For a moment, I felt a bewildering impulse to reach out, to touch it—perhaps even guide it to my mouth. But I quickly suppressed the thought, my cheeks burning with shame at the mere idea.
As I stood there, frozen, Asif leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. "Look at it, Ketan. This is what a real man's cock looks like. Not that pathetic little thing you call your penis." His words cut deep, and I couldn’t help but glance down, comparing the two. The difference was humiliating. Next to Asif’s girth, my own erection felt insignificant, barely there—just another reminder of my inadequacy.
Asif chuckled darkly, noticing my involuntary comparison. "Feeling small, aren't you? It's okay to admit it. You know she can never be satisfied with what you've got. Not when she's had this." He gave his hips a slight thrust, brushing his erection against me again, which elicited another involuntary whimper from me. The contact was both degrading and strangely electrifying, sending a jolt of humiliation through my entire body.
Asif's grip shifted suddenly, his hand snapping down to my groin. With a cruel pinch, he grasped my lulli, squeezing hard. The pain was sharp, shooting through me, making me flinch and cry out. Tears sprang to my eyes, not just from the physical pain but from the deep, searing shame that washed over me.
Laughing heartily, Asif held me there, exposed and vulnerable, turning to Ananya with a mocking grin.
"Dekh, Ananya, ye hai tera pati ka asli roop ( Look Ananya, this is what your husband truly is)" he jeered loudly, flicking my lulli as if to highlight its insignificance. "Is this even worth calling a man? It’s like a child's plaything, hardly enough to be called a man’s."
I stood frozen, humiliation coursing through me as his laughter echoed around the room. Ananya’s quick glance added to my disgrace. Her eyes, wide with a mix of shock and disappointment, quickly looked away, unable to hold my gaze. The disappointment in her expression was clear—she saw me not as her husband in that moment, but as a figure of pity and embarrassment.
The weight of Asif's dominance bore down on me, his crude words replaying in my head, amplifying my humiliation. I felt small, diminished, stripped of dignity under his mocking gaze.
As Asif's low, menacing voice cut through the air, a deep, cold dread settled over me. "Do it right, little guy, or I'll take that tiny ass of yours right here in front of your wife," he growled. His words, thick with threat, seemed to echo ominously in the room.
I shivered under the weight of his gaze, which had turned sharp and commanding. "I'll do it," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling with fear. Asif studied me for a long, silent moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring my worth and finding it lacking. His slow, deliberate nod was more intimidating than any shout could be.
Reluctantly, I turned back to my humiliating task, Asif's mocking voice ringing in my ears. Despite the fear gnawing at my gut, I was driven by a desperate need to somehow prove myself, to reclaim even a shred of dignity in front of both Asif and Ananya.
I resumed my efforts, my tongue working tentatively. Each stroke, however, seemed to draw only the faintest response from Ananya—a stark contrast to the loud moans Asif had elicited from her. Each whimper from her was a silent rebuke, reminding me of my inadequacies and deepening the sting of humiliation.
Moments later, Asif walked away, only to return with something in his hand. He'd picked up Ananya's black lacy panties, which he'd thrown to the corner of the bed earlier. "Wear this," he commanded, tossing the delicate fabric at me. Fear-stricken and out of options, I compiled without a word, slipping into the tiny garment. It clung to my skin, a stark reminder of my subservience.
Asif laughed heartily as he mocked me. "Ananya, look at your little hubby. He looks so cute in your panties. He has nothing between his legs. He looks like a cute girl," he jeered. His words cut deep. My own flesh had shrunk back, minimal and embarrassed, making the fit of Ananya’s panties seem almost appropriate—a perfect encapsulation of my humiliation.
Regaining his control, Asif ordered, "Come here, you tiny little guy—or should I say, girl? Start licking your wife's cunt properly now." His command was non-negotiable. Trembling,
I resumed my place between Ananya's legs, increasing my efforts to please her. Yet, as I devoted myself to her, Ananya was wholly consumed by Asif, her mouth eagerly taking him in.
Each time Asif's impressive cock withdrew from her mouth, glistening with her saliva, it reappeared thicker, commanding, a visual testament to his dominance. To my shock, Ananya managed to take him deeper with every thrust, something I had never imagined she could do.
As Ananya's enthusiasm did not wane, her adeptness at pleasing Asif struck me profoundly. She deepthroated him with a skill and eagerness that shook my core, challenging everything I thought I knew about her capabilities and desires. The visual of her, so determined and successful in accommodating Asif’s massive cock, underscored the vast gulf between his masculinity and my own perceived inadequacy.
"As Asif issued his command, his deep voice boomed with authority, ' Pakad mera lund aur daal apni biwi ki choot mei (Hold my cock, little guy, and guide it into your wife’s eager pussy.') My hands shook as I reached out to obey, grasping his immense, iron-like shaft. The feel of it—so much larger and more formidable than anything I had seen in real life—was not just intimidating but deeply humiliating.
With each movement, Ananya’s saliva, which coated him generously, made his skin slick under my tentative touch. The size of him was overwhelming, surpassing even Anand’s, which I had once thought massive. Here I was, helping another man enter my wife, a task that felt as demeaning as it was surreal.
As I positioned Asif's glistening, circumcised cock at the entrance of Ananya’s folds, the head of his shaft loomed large, as thick as my wrist and ready to breach her. The heat from his body radiated against my palms, and I could almost feel the pulse of his arousal as I supported its weight, guiding him towards her. Ananya's legs trembled with anticipation, her body instinctively responding to the proximity of his dominance.
Asif's voice dropped to a murmur, his tone laced with a challenging edge. He paused, giving Ananya a brief moment to catch her breath after her intense climax. 'Are you sure you can take it?' he asked, his words hanging in the air with a provocative dare.
'YESSSS! BUT PLEASE GO SLOWWW...' Ananya's response was immediate and sharp, a high-pitched squeal of eager consent that pierced the tense atmosphere. 'I’ve never taken one as big as yours but I’ve come close with Anand!' Her admission was filled with anticipation, clearly excited by the challenge.
Turning his head slightly, Asif shot a knowing grin back at Ketan, his expression one of smug triumph. 'Watch closely, Ketan. I’m about to show you what she’s been missing,' he taunted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 'Maybe you’ll finally understand why she never moans for you like this.' His words, loaded with implication, were a clear taunt, promising a demonstration that would be both a revelation and a humiliation for the watching husband.
As the thick head of Asif's cock brushed against Ananya's entrance, her entire body tensed, a sharp intake of breath marking her surprise.
'Ahhh... ohhh... oh my God! slowly please....'
she gasped, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and mounting excitement. Each push inside her elicited a series of soft, trembling whimpers,
'Nghhh... nghhh...'
growing louder and more desperate as he filled her more deeply.
The initial stiffness of her body gave way to involuntary movements; her hips began to buck against him instinctively. Her moans deepened with every slow, deliberate thrust, 'Ahhh... ahhh... nghhh...' echoing around the room as her breathing turned into ragged gasps, trying to accommodate his overwhelming size.
As Asif pushed deeper, he glanced over at Ketan with a mocking sneer, his voice booming with crude authority, "Dekh Ketan, teri biwi kaise chod rha hun ( Look Ketan, look how I am fucking your wife)" His taunt was meant to degrade, starkly highlighting the intense pleasure he was providing Ananya—a stark contrast to what she experienced with her husband.
As Asif thrust into Ananya, his taunting words cut through the air, "Dekh teri biwi kaise chod rha hun.(Look how I am fucking your wife)" Each syllable was a searing flame to my senses. Despite the crushing humiliation, there was a perverse thrill that shot through me, igniting a mix of emotions I couldn't comprehend. Hearing him speak so crudely about Ananya, witnessing the raw, physical reality of his words, stirred something dark within me. It was degrading, yet strangely, it fueled an unwanted surge of arousal that I felt ashamed to admit. This crude Hindi, so stark and demeaning, somehow tapped into a hidden, masochistic part of my psyche, drawing me deeper into the twisted spectacle before me.
Ananya was completely enveloped in a world of ecstasy, her body glistening with sweat and traces of her recent climaxes. Each movement from Asif seemed to draw another wave of intense pleasure that cascaded through her. As he penetrated deeper, reaching halfway with his thick, pulsing shaft, her body responded uncontrollably. With each thrust, the soft 'channn chann chann' of her bangles added a rhythmic melody to the scene, the delicate sounds escalating with the fervor of their movements, mirroring the intensity of her pleasure.Her back arched sharply, a silent scream of overwhelming pleasure as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. The sensation was so intense that her entire body shook, her fingers digging into the sheets, clutching them tightly as if trying to anchor herself in the storm of her own ecstasy.
As Asif continued his forceful thrusts, he taunted loudly, 'Dekh, Ketan, aise chodte hain kisi aurat ko... Tere jaise hijdo ko seekhna chahiye. ( This is how you fuck a man Ketan, A sissy like you should learn)' The crude words washed over me, igniting a painful flush of embarrassment across my cheeks. I could only nod weakly, too humiliated to meet Asif's piercing gaze or to deny the harsh reality his words painted.
Amid the thick, charged atmosphere, Ananya's voice rose above the tension, laden with a mix of pain and pleasure.
'Asif... Asssiffff... Ahhhhh Asssiffffffff...'
she moaned deeply, each call punctuated by her body's visceral response to his powerful thrusts. Her passionate cries filled the room, leaving no doubt about her complete and utter surrender to the ecstasy he was driving her towards.
Asif glanced back at me with a cruel smirk. His voice dripped with mockery as he delivered another sharp taunt, 'Ketan, teri biwi toh ab sirf mere naam le rahi hai. Tujhe bhool gayi lagti hai. (Look Ketan how your wife is only screaming my name now, maybe she has forgotten you completely)' The words stung sharply, suggesting that Ananya had forgotten me entirely in her throes of passion with him. Each syllable of his taunt echoed in the room, hammering the humiliating truth into my heart.
Her breaths came quick and ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for air, her moans uncontrollable, spilling from her lips with each of Asif's powerful thrusts. Asif was kneading her bra covered breasts with each stroke. The gentle clinking of her bangles added a delicate, rhythmic sound, each movement of her arms—whether intertwining with Asif's or bracing against the bed—enhancing the erotic symphony filling the room. The sounds of their bodies moving in unison, the slick, wet noises of Asif’s deep thrusts grew louder, more insistent, and the metallic channn channn of her bangles wove through it all, creating an unreal experience for me.
Ananya’s eyes remained tightly closed, her face a tapestry of pleasure and intense focus as she surrendered to the relentless waves of her climax. Each peak seemed to flow seamlessly into the next, with no pause in between. Her legs shook, the muscles in her thighs tensing as she instinctively tried to pull him deeper, to feel him as completely as possible. Her fingers moved from clutching the sheets to digging into Asif's back, her nails leaving faint red trails on his skin as she pulled him closer, desperate for the full force of his thrusts that overwhelmed her senses.
The room was thick with the scent of their combined arousal, a potent, intoxicating fragrance that filled the air and intensified the raw, primal nature of the moment. This aroma mingled with the escalating sounds of their union, creating an overwhelming sensory experience that dominated the room, marking it as a place of profound and unrestrained pleasure.
"Watching the scene unfold before me, I felt a complex whirlwind of emotions gripping my chest tightly. The sight of Ananya, lost in waves of ecstasy under Asif's commanding presence, sent an involuntary shiver through me. My own arousal was palpable, an unwanted response; I felt my cock twitch as I witnessed my wife reaching new heights of pleasure, heights I had never taken her to. Each noise she made was a sharp stab of humiliation yet strangely stirring within me. Standing there, frozen, I was caught between wanting to turn away in shame and the visceral, primal urge to watch.
The delicate clink of her bangles, escalating with the intensity of their movements, echoed the tumult in my heart, each moment etching itself painfully, indelibly into my memory. As I stood there, it dawned on me that Asif had already given Ananya more orgasms in this one encounter than I had managed to give her in the past six months. This realization was another sharp jab to my ego, a stinging reminder of my inadequacies and the pleasure she was experiencing under someone else's control."
“KYA MERA LUND TERE PATI SE BAHOT BADA HAI (IS MY COCK WAY BIGGER THAN YOUR HUSBAND)?” Asif glanced at me and prodded while thrusting harder into Ananya
“UFFF...... HAAAAAAAAAN! ( UFFFF YESSSSSSSSSS)" my wife moaned between the thrusts.
“USKA KITNA HAI...? ( HOW BIG IS HE...?)”
“AAP SE AADHAA SHAYAD...” ( MAYBE HALF THAN YOUR SIZE) She screamed again mid thrust.
"PAR USKA KAAFI PATLA HAI" (BUT ITS WAYYYYY THINNER) She continued to my astonishment.
"KYA TU APNE PATI KI CHOTI LULLI SE PHIR KABHI CHUDWAYEGIi?!" (WILL YOU EVER GET FUCKED BY YOUR HUSBAND'S TINY COCK AGAIN? )
"NAHIIIIIIII!..... (NOOOOOO)"
Asif looked at Ketan with a smile.
Ketan stood frozen, his shock palpable as the words tumbled from Ananya's lips. Each sentence struck him like a physical blow, the crude language and cheap hindi and her humiliating admissions cut deeper than any physical pain could. He couldn't believe the woman he married, the woman he thought he knew, was capable of such vulgarity. Calling Asif “ aap” a tone of respect in hindi to her bull was too much for Ketan to handle. It was as if he were seeing a different side of her, one that revelled in her own degradation.
Hearing her compare her husband so unfavorably to Asif, rejecting him so explicitly, filled him with a complex mix of astonishment, hurt, and an undeniable, disturbing spike of arousal which made him cum without touching his cock. This had never happened to him before. A lowly whimper escaped his mouth as he came the hardest he ever had.
The room spun around him as he grappled with the reality of his wife's words, words that painted her not just as unfaithful but as someone who was a slut now. As he commanded the space, he suddenly paused, cocking his head towards me. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he barked at Ananya, 'Look at your husband, baby. Watch him as he cums from just watching us.
Ananya's eyes, glazed with the haze of her ecstasy, flicked towards me reluctantly. The sight of me, a pathetic figure lost in my own climax, seemed to shock her back to a reality she wished to ignore. She stared as the last tremors of my release shook through me, her expression a complex tapestry of arousal, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of disdain.
Asif chuckled darkly, pleased with the spectacle and the control he exhibited over both of us.” Dekh apne hijde pati ko Ananya( Look at your sissy husband Ananya). Now let me show you what a real man can do.” With that, he resumed his powerful thrusts, each one punctuated by Ananya’s high-pitched cries of pleasure, pushing her further into the throes of her orgasms.
'Watch closely, cucky,' Asif taunted, his voice thick with triumph. 'This is how you make a woman scream.' The room echoed with the sounds of their union, the slap of skin on skin, Ananya’s continuous screams, and Asif’s grunts of exertion.
"Batah Ananya, tere pati se zyada maza aa raha hai na.....?( Tell me am I fucking you better than your husband ?)" Ananya, caught in a wave of pleasure, barely managed to nod in agreement.
Asif continued while laughing "Ketan, teri biwi to ek number ki randi nikli… ek pati ke samne uski biwi ko nanga karke chodne ka maza hi kuch aur hai. (Ketan, your wife turned out to be a top-class whore, there's a different kind of pleasure in undressing someone else’s wife and fucking her in front of her husband"
Asif's movements became more deliberate.
With a sudden, deft motion, he reached behind Ananya and unclasped her black bra with ease. The fabric loosened, and he slid it off her shoulders, revealing her completely. He paused for a moment, holding the bra in his hand, then turned his gaze towards me. With a mocking smirk, he tossed the bra aside. The black lace lay crumpled on the carpet, a poignant reminder of the dynamics unfolding before my eyes, fueling a mix of emotions as I stood there, unable to move
She screamed again, having another major orgasm as she arched her back, a high, keening sound that filled the room as Asif pressed deeper, his movements both skilled and assertive. He continued fucking her through her orgasm. With every thrust, he seemed to reach new territories within her, her body responding with violent shudders of pleasure.
Beneath him, Ananya was almost naked, her body glowing with sweat that accentuated her curves. She still wore her black bra, the dark fabric contrasting sharply against her flushed skin, while her lower half was completely exposed. The only other adornments on her body were her bangles, clinking softly with each movement, and her mangalsutra, which lay against her chest—a poignant reminder of our marriage as she kissed him with a passion that was both unfamiliar and deeply unsettling to me.
Asif's erection was formidable, lying thick and ready against Ananya’s thigh, visibly throbbing with readiness. It was a clear signal of what was about to happen.
As I watched them together, I felt a humiliating stiffness between my legs, a stark and unwanted reminder of my deep-seated arousal.
When Asif noticed me at the doorway, he gestured for me to come closer with a commanding wave.
As Asif gestured for me to come closer, the difference between us was stark. His broad shoulders and muscular frame stood in sharp contrast to my own slighter build. His hands, steady and assertive as they motioned me forward, made my own hands look frail; they trembled visibly, the shaking worsening as I stepped closer into the tension-filled room. Asif's confident stance as he towered over both Ananya and me underscored his dominance, making me feel even smaller and more insignificant.
"Nazdeek aa, Ketan. Dekh kaise ek asli mard teri biwi ko santusht karta hai.( Come closer Ketan and look how a real man satisfies your wife)
With a cruel smirk, Asif gestured dismissively at me. 'Dekh Ananya apni pati ki chhoti lulli, (Look at your husband's tiny cock Ananya)' he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. 'Ye kaisa hijda hai? Saala, mujh jaise asli mard ki zarurat hai tujhe.( How is he even a man, you need a real man like me')
As Asif threw crude insults my way, something unexpected happened inside me. His harsh words, meant to humiliate me, strangely made me feel even more excited. Every time he mocked me in that rough mix of Hindi and English, it didn't just embarrass me—it made my body react. My own humiliation was so intense that, to my own disbelief, I felt my lulli twitch. It was confusing and wrong, but the shame and excitement twisted together inside me, making everything even more intense.
Ananya's eyes fleetingly met mine. There was a complex play of emotions across her face—a mix of submission and undeniable arousal. It seemed as if she was struggling, caught between her sorry husband and the overwhelming sensations Asif elicited in her.
I continued looking into her eyes as they quickly followed Asif’s mocking gesture, resting momentarily at my lulli. Her brow furrowed slightly, and the quick, almost pitying shake of her head before she averted her eyes spoke volumes. In that brief look, I didn't just see disappointment; I saw a resignation that felt like a gut punch, reinforcing the depth of my humiliation.
With a malicious grin, Asif shifted his position, showcasing his dominance and skill. He lowered himself between Ananya's spread legs, his eyes locking with mine for a moment to emphasize his control before he turned his attention to her. He began to expertly pleasure her with his mouth, his movements deliberate and practiced. Ananya’s response was immediate and intense; she arched her back, her hands clutching at the bedsheets as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Her moans filled the room, loud and uninhibited.
'Aaahhhhhhhhhhhh...'
she sighed deeply as Asif’s tongue found her most sensitive spots.
'Mmmmmmmmm...'
her voice mingled with the soft clinking of her bangles as her arms moved restlessly by her sides. Asif's pace quickened, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, drawing circles and flicks that sent shivers through her body.
'Ohhhhhhhhhhhh...' Ananya gasped, her voice rising in pitch as her pleasure built.
The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, mingling with the faint smell of lavender from the candles.
Each of her moans was a testament to Asif's skill. Her body responded to him with a raw, primal urgency, her hips bucking slightly to meet his mouth, desperate for more of the exquisite sensations he elicited. She was grinding herself harder on Asif's mouth.
Asif's hands were firm on her thighs, holding her in place as he continued his relentless assault on her senses. Every now and then, he would look up at me, a smirk playing on his lips as he witnessed my pained expression, enjoying the show of my wife's undoing at his hands. This visual connection, his eyes gleaming with triumph and Ananya’s moans of 'Aaahhh... Mmmmmm...' echoing around us, created a vivid scene of my utter humiliation and her abandon."
After Asif's display of expertise had left Ananya moaning loudly in ecstasy, he straightened up, his eyes catching mine with a smirk that spoke volumes of his superiority. The room was still echoing with the remnants of Ananya's loud expressions of pleasure. It was then he directed his commanding voice at me, breaking through the heavy air charged with arousal.
"Make your wife ready for me, little guy," he boomed, the depth of his voice reinforcing his dominance. His words pulled Ananya's attention towards me; her reaction was immediate and cutting. She quickly closed her legs, a gesture of modesty that stung sharply, as it was directed at me—her husband.
The sudden rush of unwanted arousal made my own erection painfully evident. It was embarrassingly small, especially in contrast to Asif’s impressive size. His cock was not only thick and pulsing but also exuded a sense of dominance with every visible throb. In comparison, mine seemed insignificant, barely worth noticing. This humiliating contrast sent a hot flush of shame across my face, underscoring my inadequacy.
Ananya, visibly overwhelmed by the intense situation, clenched her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands, her body quivering slightly from a mix of embarrassment and conflicted arousal. Asif, ever observant, leaned in closer to her, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper. He gestured crudely towards my erection. 'Look at him, Ananya. Even he knows his place, excited by his own humiliations. He's a true cuckold, and deep down, he craves this. And you, you know what you crave, so leave any guilt you have now' he hissed, his words slicing through the tense atmosphere. It was painfully ironic how Ananya, even in her exposed state, found the need to shield herself from me, her husband.
Seizing the moment to further assert his control, Asif reached out and forcefully removed Ananya’s hands from her face, compelling her to confront the reality before her. 'Open your eyes and see what your husband really is,' he demanded, his voice thick with authority and undeniable arousal. As her eyes met mine, the pained realization of her modesty reserved only for me was stark and excruciating.
Asif didn't stop there; he took command over her body like it was his own. Grasping Ananya’s thighs, he spread them wide with a powerful and deliberate action, exposing her fully to my view. The sight was overwhelmingly humiliating. Ananya's pussy, glistening and wet from Asif's oral attentions, was a vivid display of her arousal. This stark contrast to the modesty she had momentarily shown towards me only deepened the humiliation.
As I knelt between Ananya’s spread legs, the warmth and scent of her pussy enveloping me, I began to delicately touch her. Each contact with her skin was a mix of the familiar tenderness we once shared and a painful reminder of the current humiliation. My movements were gentle, tentative, exploring her softly, yet they elicited nothing more than faint whimpers from her—so starkly different from the loud, uninhibited moans she had offered Asif.
Carefully, I started to lick her, trying to rekindle the passion we used to ignite together. Each taste was a bittersweet reminder of our intimacy, yet now laced with the bitterness of the moment. Despite my efforts, her reactions were muted, barely a whisper of sound escaping her lips, her body still except for the slight tensing of muscles under my touch.
Meanwhile, Asif, standing close by, resumed kissing Ananya, his actions assertive and demanding. Unlike my own, his touch sparked visible reactions; she kissed him back fiercely, her body unconsciously reaching out for him. Yet, as I continued my efforts, the contrast became painfully evident—she was responding to him with passion, while to me, it was mere compliance.
Catching the obvious disparity, Asif looked down at me with a smirk, his voice cutting through the tense air with a taunt, You see Ketan she’s not moaning for you like she was for me. You see that, right? You can’t make her feel the way I do.”
His words were a harsh reminder of my inadequacy, echoing cruelly in the room, underscoring the humiliating truth of my new reality. As he mocked me, not only did it deepen the sting of my humiliation, but it also underscored the profound disparity in the pleasure Ananya derived from us. It was a brutal, undeniable declaration of my failings as her husband.
Suddenly, with a swift, forceful motion, Asif grabbed my hair and yanked me upwards, forcing me to face him. His grip was tight and unyielding, pulling a whimper of pain from my lips as I stumbled to my feet. As I stood, Asif’s erection was alarmingly close, its presence imposing and impossible to ignore. It pressed against my belly, its heat and firmness a stark contrast to my own meager arousal.
The size of Asif's cock was daunting—thick, veined, and impressively hard, exuding a dominant aura that overshadowed me completely. Seeing it so close, feeling its warmth against my skin, stirred a confusing mix of fear, humiliation, and an inexplicable urge. For a moment, I felt a bewildering impulse to reach out, to touch it—perhaps even guide it to my mouth. But I quickly suppressed the thought, my cheeks burning with shame at the mere idea.
As I stood there, frozen, Asif leaned in closer, his voice a low growl. "Look at it, Ketan. This is what a real man's cock looks like. Not that pathetic little thing you call your penis." His words cut deep, and I couldn’t help but glance down, comparing the two. The difference was humiliating. Next to Asif’s girth, my own erection felt insignificant, barely there—just another reminder of my inadequacy.
Asif chuckled darkly, noticing my involuntary comparison. "Feeling small, aren't you? It's okay to admit it. You know she can never be satisfied with what you've got. Not when she's had this." He gave his hips a slight thrust, brushing his erection against me again, which elicited another involuntary whimper from me. The contact was both degrading and strangely electrifying, sending a jolt of humiliation through my entire body.
Asif's grip shifted suddenly, his hand snapping down to my groin. With a cruel pinch, he grasped my lulli, squeezing hard. The pain was sharp, shooting through me, making me flinch and cry out. Tears sprang to my eyes, not just from the physical pain but from the deep, searing shame that washed over me.
Laughing heartily, Asif held me there, exposed and vulnerable, turning to Ananya with a mocking grin.
"Dekh, Ananya, ye hai tera pati ka asli roop ( Look Ananya, this is what your husband truly is)" he jeered loudly, flicking my lulli as if to highlight its insignificance. "Is this even worth calling a man? It’s like a child's plaything, hardly enough to be called a man’s."
I stood frozen, humiliation coursing through me as his laughter echoed around the room. Ananya’s quick glance added to my disgrace. Her eyes, wide with a mix of shock and disappointment, quickly looked away, unable to hold my gaze. The disappointment in her expression was clear—she saw me not as her husband in that moment, but as a figure of pity and embarrassment.
The weight of Asif's dominance bore down on me, his crude words replaying in my head, amplifying my humiliation. I felt small, diminished, stripped of dignity under his mocking gaze.
As Asif's low, menacing voice cut through the air, a deep, cold dread settled over me. "Do it right, little guy, or I'll take that tiny ass of yours right here in front of your wife," he growled. His words, thick with threat, seemed to echo ominously in the room.
I shivered under the weight of his gaze, which had turned sharp and commanding. "I'll do it," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling with fear. Asif studied me for a long, silent moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if measuring my worth and finding it lacking. His slow, deliberate nod was more intimidating than any shout could be.
Reluctantly, I turned back to my humiliating task, Asif's mocking voice ringing in my ears. Despite the fear gnawing at my gut, I was driven by a desperate need to somehow prove myself, to reclaim even a shred of dignity in front of both Asif and Ananya.
I resumed my efforts, my tongue working tentatively. Each stroke, however, seemed to draw only the faintest response from Ananya—a stark contrast to the loud moans Asif had elicited from her. Each whimper from her was a silent rebuke, reminding me of my inadequacies and deepening the sting of humiliation.
Moments later, Asif walked away, only to return with something in his hand. He'd picked up Ananya's black lacy panties, which he'd thrown to the corner of the bed earlier. "Wear this," he commanded, tossing the delicate fabric at me. Fear-stricken and out of options, I compiled without a word, slipping into the tiny garment. It clung to my skin, a stark reminder of my subservience.
Asif laughed heartily as he mocked me. "Ananya, look at your little hubby. He looks so cute in your panties. He has nothing between his legs. He looks like a cute girl," he jeered. His words cut deep. My own flesh had shrunk back, minimal and embarrassed, making the fit of Ananya’s panties seem almost appropriate—a perfect encapsulation of my humiliation.
Regaining his control, Asif ordered, "Come here, you tiny little guy—or should I say, girl? Start licking your wife's cunt properly now." His command was non-negotiable. Trembling,
I resumed my place between Ananya's legs, increasing my efforts to please her. Yet, as I devoted myself to her, Ananya was wholly consumed by Asif, her mouth eagerly taking him in.
Each time Asif's impressive cock withdrew from her mouth, glistening with her saliva, it reappeared thicker, commanding, a visual testament to his dominance. To my shock, Ananya managed to take him deeper with every thrust, something I had never imagined she could do.
As Ananya's enthusiasm did not wane, her adeptness at pleasing Asif struck me profoundly. She deepthroated him with a skill and eagerness that shook my core, challenging everything I thought I knew about her capabilities and desires. The visual of her, so determined and successful in accommodating Asif’s massive cock, underscored the vast gulf between his masculinity and my own perceived inadequacy.
"As Asif issued his command, his deep voice boomed with authority, ' Pakad mera lund aur daal apni biwi ki choot mei (Hold my cock, little guy, and guide it into your wife’s eager pussy.') My hands shook as I reached out to obey, grasping his immense, iron-like shaft. The feel of it—so much larger and more formidable than anything I had seen in real life—was not just intimidating but deeply humiliating.
With each movement, Ananya’s saliva, which coated him generously, made his skin slick under my tentative touch. The size of him was overwhelming, surpassing even Anand’s, which I had once thought massive. Here I was, helping another man enter my wife, a task that felt as demeaning as it was surreal.
As I positioned Asif's glistening, circumcised cock at the entrance of Ananya’s folds, the head of his shaft loomed large, as thick as my wrist and ready to breach her. The heat from his body radiated against my palms, and I could almost feel the pulse of his arousal as I supported its weight, guiding him towards her. Ananya's legs trembled with anticipation, her body instinctively responding to the proximity of his dominance.
Asif's voice dropped to a murmur, his tone laced with a challenging edge. He paused, giving Ananya a brief moment to catch her breath after her intense climax. 'Are you sure you can take it?' he asked, his words hanging in the air with a provocative dare.
'YESSSS! BUT PLEASE GO SLOWWW...' Ananya's response was immediate and sharp, a high-pitched squeal of eager consent that pierced the tense atmosphere. 'I’ve never taken one as big as yours but I’ve come close with Anand!' Her admission was filled with anticipation, clearly excited by the challenge.
Turning his head slightly, Asif shot a knowing grin back at Ketan, his expression one of smug triumph. 'Watch closely, Ketan. I’m about to show you what she’s been missing,' he taunted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. 'Maybe you’ll finally understand why she never moans for you like this.' His words, loaded with implication, were a clear taunt, promising a demonstration that would be both a revelation and a humiliation for the watching husband.
As the thick head of Asif's cock brushed against Ananya's entrance, her entire body tensed, a sharp intake of breath marking her surprise.
'Ahhh... ohhh... oh my God! slowly please....'
she gasped, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and mounting excitement. Each push inside her elicited a series of soft, trembling whimpers,
'Nghhh... nghhh...'
growing louder and more desperate as he filled her more deeply.
The initial stiffness of her body gave way to involuntary movements; her hips began to buck against him instinctively. Her moans deepened with every slow, deliberate thrust, 'Ahhh... ahhh... nghhh...' echoing around the room as her breathing turned into ragged gasps, trying to accommodate his overwhelming size.
As Asif pushed deeper, he glanced over at Ketan with a mocking sneer, his voice booming with crude authority, "Dekh Ketan, teri biwi kaise chod rha hun ( Look Ketan, look how I am fucking your wife)" His taunt was meant to degrade, starkly highlighting the intense pleasure he was providing Ananya—a stark contrast to what she experienced with her husband.
As Asif thrust into Ananya, his taunting words cut through the air, "Dekh teri biwi kaise chod rha hun.(Look how I am fucking your wife)" Each syllable was a searing flame to my senses. Despite the crushing humiliation, there was a perverse thrill that shot through me, igniting a mix of emotions I couldn't comprehend. Hearing him speak so crudely about Ananya, witnessing the raw, physical reality of his words, stirred something dark within me. It was degrading, yet strangely, it fueled an unwanted surge of arousal that I felt ashamed to admit. This crude Hindi, so stark and demeaning, somehow tapped into a hidden, masochistic part of my psyche, drawing me deeper into the twisted spectacle before me.
Ananya was completely enveloped in a world of ecstasy, her body glistening with sweat and traces of her recent climaxes. Each movement from Asif seemed to draw another wave of intense pleasure that cascaded through her. As he penetrated deeper, reaching halfway with his thick, pulsing shaft, her body responded uncontrollably. With each thrust, the soft 'channn chann chann' of her bangles added a rhythmic melody to the scene, the delicate sounds escalating with the fervor of their movements, mirroring the intensity of her pleasure.Her back arched sharply, a silent scream of overwhelming pleasure as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. The sensation was so intense that her entire body shook, her fingers digging into the sheets, clutching them tightly as if trying to anchor herself in the storm of her own ecstasy.
As Asif continued his forceful thrusts, he taunted loudly, 'Dekh, Ketan, aise chodte hain kisi aurat ko... Tere jaise hijdo ko seekhna chahiye. ( This is how you fuck a man Ketan, A sissy like you should learn)' The crude words washed over me, igniting a painful flush of embarrassment across my cheeks. I could only nod weakly, too humiliated to meet Asif's piercing gaze or to deny the harsh reality his words painted.
Amid the thick, charged atmosphere, Ananya's voice rose above the tension, laden with a mix of pain and pleasure.
'Asif... Asssiffff... Ahhhhh Asssiffffffff...'
she moaned deeply, each call punctuated by her body's visceral response to his powerful thrusts. Her passionate cries filled the room, leaving no doubt about her complete and utter surrender to the ecstasy he was driving her towards.
Asif glanced back at me with a cruel smirk. His voice dripped with mockery as he delivered another sharp taunt, 'Ketan, teri biwi toh ab sirf mere naam le rahi hai. Tujhe bhool gayi lagti hai. (Look Ketan how your wife is only screaming my name now, maybe she has forgotten you completely)' The words stung sharply, suggesting that Ananya had forgotten me entirely in her throes of passion with him. Each syllable of his taunt echoed in the room, hammering the humiliating truth into my heart.
Her breaths came quick and ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she gasped for air, her moans uncontrollable, spilling from her lips with each of Asif's powerful thrusts. Asif was kneading her bra covered breasts with each stroke. The gentle clinking of her bangles added a delicate, rhythmic sound, each movement of her arms—whether intertwining with Asif's or bracing against the bed—enhancing the erotic symphony filling the room. The sounds of their bodies moving in unison, the slick, wet noises of Asif’s deep thrusts grew louder, more insistent, and the metallic channn channn of her bangles wove through it all, creating an unreal experience for me.
Ananya’s eyes remained tightly closed, her face a tapestry of pleasure and intense focus as she surrendered to the relentless waves of her climax. Each peak seemed to flow seamlessly into the next, with no pause in between. Her legs shook, the muscles in her thighs tensing as she instinctively tried to pull him deeper, to feel him as completely as possible. Her fingers moved from clutching the sheets to digging into Asif's back, her nails leaving faint red trails on his skin as she pulled him closer, desperate for the full force of his thrusts that overwhelmed her senses.
The room was thick with the scent of their combined arousal, a potent, intoxicating fragrance that filled the air and intensified the raw, primal nature of the moment. This aroma mingled with the escalating sounds of their union, creating an overwhelming sensory experience that dominated the room, marking it as a place of profound and unrestrained pleasure.
"Watching the scene unfold before me, I felt a complex whirlwind of emotions gripping my chest tightly. The sight of Ananya, lost in waves of ecstasy under Asif's commanding presence, sent an involuntary shiver through me. My own arousal was palpable, an unwanted response; I felt my cock twitch as I witnessed my wife reaching new heights of pleasure, heights I had never taken her to. Each noise she made was a sharp stab of humiliation yet strangely stirring within me. Standing there, frozen, I was caught between wanting to turn away in shame and the visceral, primal urge to watch.
The delicate clink of her bangles, escalating with the intensity of their movements, echoed the tumult in my heart, each moment etching itself painfully, indelibly into my memory. As I stood there, it dawned on me that Asif had already given Ananya more orgasms in this one encounter than I had managed to give her in the past six months. This realization was another sharp jab to my ego, a stinging reminder of my inadequacies and the pleasure she was experiencing under someone else's control."
“KYA MERA LUND TERE PATI SE BAHOT BADA HAI (IS MY COCK WAY BIGGER THAN YOUR HUSBAND)?” Asif glanced at me and prodded while thrusting harder into Ananya
“UFFF...... HAAAAAAAAAN! ( UFFFF YESSSSSSSSSS)" my wife moaned between the thrusts.
“USKA KITNA HAI...? ( HOW BIG IS HE...?)”
“AAP SE AADHAA SHAYAD...” ( MAYBE HALF THAN YOUR SIZE) She screamed again mid thrust.
"PAR USKA KAAFI PATLA HAI" (BUT ITS WAYYYYY THINNER) She continued to my astonishment.
"KYA TU APNE PATI KI CHOTI LULLI SE PHIR KABHI CHUDWAYEGIi?!" (WILL YOU EVER GET FUCKED BY YOUR HUSBAND'S TINY COCK AGAIN? )
"NAHIIIIIIII!..... (NOOOOOO)"
Asif looked at Ketan with a smile.
Ketan stood frozen, his shock palpable as the words tumbled from Ananya's lips. Each sentence struck him like a physical blow, the crude language and cheap hindi and her humiliating admissions cut deeper than any physical pain could. He couldn't believe the woman he married, the woman he thought he knew, was capable of such vulgarity. Calling Asif “ aap” a tone of respect in hindi to her bull was too much for Ketan to handle. It was as if he were seeing a different side of her, one that revelled in her own degradation.
Hearing her compare her husband so unfavorably to Asif, rejecting him so explicitly, filled him with a complex mix of astonishment, hurt, and an undeniable, disturbing spike of arousal which made him cum without touching his cock. This had never happened to him before. A lowly whimper escaped his mouth as he came the hardest he ever had.
The room spun around him as he grappled with the reality of his wife's words, words that painted her not just as unfaithful but as someone who was a slut now. As he commanded the space, he suddenly paused, cocking his head towards me. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he barked at Ananya, 'Look at your husband, baby. Watch him as he cums from just watching us.
Ananya's eyes, glazed with the haze of her ecstasy, flicked towards me reluctantly. The sight of me, a pathetic figure lost in my own climax, seemed to shock her back to a reality she wished to ignore. She stared as the last tremors of my release shook through me, her expression a complex tapestry of arousal, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of disdain.
Asif chuckled darkly, pleased with the spectacle and the control he exhibited over both of us.” Dekh apne hijde pati ko Ananya( Look at your sissy husband Ananya). Now let me show you what a real man can do.” With that, he resumed his powerful thrusts, each one punctuated by Ananya’s high-pitched cries of pleasure, pushing her further into the throes of her orgasms.
'Watch closely, cucky,' Asif taunted, his voice thick with triumph. 'This is how you make a woman scream.' The room echoed with the sounds of their union, the slap of skin on skin, Ananya’s continuous screams, and Asif’s grunts of exertion.
"Batah Ananya, tere pati se zyada maza aa raha hai na.....?( Tell me am I fucking you better than your husband ?)" Ananya, caught in a wave of pleasure, barely managed to nod in agreement.
Asif continued while laughing "Ketan, teri biwi to ek number ki randi nikli… ek pati ke samne uski biwi ko nanga karke chodne ka maza hi kuch aur hai. (Ketan, your wife turned out to be a top-class whore, there's a different kind of pleasure in undressing someone else’s wife and fucking her in front of her husband"
Asif's movements became more deliberate.
With a sudden, deft motion, he reached behind Ananya and unclasped her black bra with ease. The fabric loosened, and he slid it off her shoulders, revealing her completely. He paused for a moment, holding the bra in his hand, then turned his gaze towards me. With a mocking smirk, he tossed the bra aside. The black lace lay crumpled on the carpet, a poignant reminder of the dynamics unfolding before my eyes, fueling a mix of emotions as I stood there, unable to move
She screamed again, having another major orgasm as she arched her back, a high, keening sound that filled the room as Asif pressed deeper, his movements both skilled and assertive. He continued fucking her through her orgasm. With every thrust, he seemed to reach new territories within her, her body responding with violent shudders of pleasure.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)