05-03-2025, 11:17 AM
A few hours later, Yuvan piped up, “Mummy, let’s go to the park!” Arpita, sprawled on her bed, waved him off, “Not today, beta, I’m not feeling well.” The disappointed kid scampered off to Rupesh, tugging at his sleeve, “Mama, Mummy’s sick—take me instead!” Rupesh nodded, “Alright, chalo,” and led Yuvan toward Arpita’s room. “Go put on your shoes,” he told the kid, “I’ll get your mum.” Stepping inside, he found Arpita lying with her back to the door, her saree hitched up just enough to frame her ass—round, alluring, and calling to him like a siren. “Arpita,” he said softly, his voice thick with tension. The sound sent a jolt through her, rippling to places she couldn’t name, her body waking up despite her will.
She turned to face him, and—bloody hell—the saree had slipped, leaving both breasts bare under that pink blouse, her cleavage a deep, inviting valley. Rupesh’s blood roared. Lust took over, and he lunged, crashing onto her, lips smashing against hers in a desperate kiss. Her body was already a furnace, helpless against the wildfire he ignited. Straddling her, he devoured her mouth like they’d been starved for centuries, her legs locking around his hips, his hands clamping onto her breasts, squeezing hard. They humped and kissed like feral beasts—raw, reckless, unstoppable—lost in a frenzy of heat and hunger.
Then, Yuvan’s voice pierced the haze, calling from the living room. Arpita froze, shoving at Rupesh to break the kiss. He pulled back, reluctant, hands still kneading her boobs like dough. She squirmed as he leaned down, mouth aiming for her chest again, but the kid’s shouts grew closer. “Rupesh, please, get out!” she begged, voice cracking. He lingered, eyes devouring her blouse-clad breasts, giving them one last greedy squeeze. Tears welled up as she grabbed his arms, pleading, “Go!” Guilt stabbed him—seeing her cry broke his heart. Wordlessly, he stumbled out, chest heavy with shame.
He took Yuvan to the park, playing half-heartedly, mind replaying the madness. Back home, Arpita’s door was locked tight. He kept Yuvan company till their parents rolled in at 7 PM. At dinner, Arpita stayed in her room, claiming a headache. Rupesh felt rotten for forcing himself on her, yet a dark corner of his mind whispered she’d wanted it too. Inside her locked room, Arpita was a live wire—aroused beyond reason. She tried masturbating to thoughts of her husband, but Rupesh’s hands, his mouth, his body on hers that afternoon hijacked her mind. It was a hundred times hotter than any night with her husband—his touch still lingered, electrifying her. She came hard, harder than ever, but kept going, rubbing herself raw, body blazing even after multiple orgasms, tangled in guilt and confusion.
Upstairs, Rupesh was just as wrecked—aroused to a peak he’d never known, torn between shame and desire. Come Saturday, their parents were home. Arpita woke up drowning in regret, while Rupesh slept late, missing breakfast. At 12:30, he shuffled downstairs, finding Mummy and Arpita in the kitchen, Yuvan playing with Grandpa in the living room. The kid lit up, “Mama!” and everyone gathered for lunch. Afterward, Yuvan chirped, “Let’s play Blindman’s Buff like yesterday!”—describing it to Grandpa. The words slammed into Rupesh and Arpita like a freight train, eyes locking across the table, heat surging. She caught him staring at her breasts—fully covered now, but she adjusted her saree anyway, shocked at how his gaze set her ablaze again. Post-lunch, she fled to her room to “rest,” while Rupesh distracted Yuvan with laptop games, his arousal fading with time.
She turned to face him, and—bloody hell—the saree had slipped, leaving both breasts bare under that pink blouse, her cleavage a deep, inviting valley. Rupesh’s blood roared. Lust took over, and he lunged, crashing onto her, lips smashing against hers in a desperate kiss. Her body was already a furnace, helpless against the wildfire he ignited. Straddling her, he devoured her mouth like they’d been starved for centuries, her legs locking around his hips, his hands clamping onto her breasts, squeezing hard. They humped and kissed like feral beasts—raw, reckless, unstoppable—lost in a frenzy of heat and hunger.
Then, Yuvan’s voice pierced the haze, calling from the living room. Arpita froze, shoving at Rupesh to break the kiss. He pulled back, reluctant, hands still kneading her boobs like dough. She squirmed as he leaned down, mouth aiming for her chest again, but the kid’s shouts grew closer. “Rupesh, please, get out!” she begged, voice cracking. He lingered, eyes devouring her blouse-clad breasts, giving them one last greedy squeeze. Tears welled up as she grabbed his arms, pleading, “Go!” Guilt stabbed him—seeing her cry broke his heart. Wordlessly, he stumbled out, chest heavy with shame.
He took Yuvan to the park, playing half-heartedly, mind replaying the madness. Back home, Arpita’s door was locked tight. He kept Yuvan company till their parents rolled in at 7 PM. At dinner, Arpita stayed in her room, claiming a headache. Rupesh felt rotten for forcing himself on her, yet a dark corner of his mind whispered she’d wanted it too. Inside her locked room, Arpita was a live wire—aroused beyond reason. She tried masturbating to thoughts of her husband, but Rupesh’s hands, his mouth, his body on hers that afternoon hijacked her mind. It was a hundred times hotter than any night with her husband—his touch still lingered, electrifying her. She came hard, harder than ever, but kept going, rubbing herself raw, body blazing even after multiple orgasms, tangled in guilt and confusion.
Upstairs, Rupesh was just as wrecked—aroused to a peak he’d never known, torn between shame and desire. Come Saturday, their parents were home. Arpita woke up drowning in regret, while Rupesh slept late, missing breakfast. At 12:30, he shuffled downstairs, finding Mummy and Arpita in the kitchen, Yuvan playing with Grandpa in the living room. The kid lit up, “Mama!” and everyone gathered for lunch. Afterward, Yuvan chirped, “Let’s play Blindman’s Buff like yesterday!”—describing it to Grandpa. The words slammed into Rupesh and Arpita like a freight train, eyes locking across the table, heat surging. She caught him staring at her breasts—fully covered now, but she adjusted her saree anyway, shocked at how his gaze set her ablaze again. Post-lunch, she fled to her room to “rest,” while Rupesh distracted Yuvan with laptop games, his arousal fading with time.