27-03-2025, 06:57 AM
The next morning, I was sitting at my desk at home, trying to focus on a particularly complex coding module, when I heard Aradhya's phone buzz. She glanced at it, then let out a small groan.
"Everything okay?", I asked, looking up from my laptop.
My wife bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before answering. "It's Mr. Banerjee. He's texting me again. I've been ignoring him, but he's getting... insistent."
My heart rate quickened. Our portly landlord had once been a frequent visitor to our apartment - well, more accurately, to my wife's body - for weeks before. Their encounters had grown increasingly depraved, pushing her boundaries in ways that both shocked and aroused her. The last time had been particularly intense. I still remembered the vivid details Aradhya had shared with me afterward.
"What does he want?", I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral, though my throat tightened with a mix of dread and curiosity, my eyes flicking to her phone.
Aradhya sighed, unlocking her phone. "Let's see..."
Landlord: Aradhya, my insatiable little slut, I've had enough of your silence. You can't ignore me forever.
I swallowed hard, a hot flush creeping up my neck as his crude words hit me. He was so brazen, so possessive — calling her his, like I wasn’t even in the picture.
Aradhya: (hesitated before replying) Mr. Banerjee, I've told you, we can't keep doing this.
Landlord: Can't? Or won't? Don't pretend you don't crave my cock, my dear. I still remember the way you begged for it last time.
Aradhya: (shifted uncomfortably, her thighs pressing together) That was... different. We went too far.
Landlord: Too far? Oh, my sweet whore, we've only scratched the surface. Or have you forgotten how you screamed when I fingered that tight cunt of yours?
A jolt shot through me, my cock stiffening against my trousers. His filthy language painted it too clear—her screaming, his pudgy fingers inside her, claiming what was mine. I hated him, hated how he’d made her lose control, but gosh, I was rock-hard imagining it.
Aradhya: (typed with shaking fingers) Mr. Banerjee, please. What we did... it was too intense.
Landlord: Intense? Oh my dear, that's putting it mildly. Your pussy tasted divine, and the way you moaned when I sucked on your clit... And let's not forget how eagerly you buried your face between my ass cheeks.
I felt a jolt of arousal at Mr. Banerjee's crude words. The image of Aradhya, my wife, rimming our portly landlord's hairy asshole was both shocking and incredibly arousing.
Aradhya: (glanced at me nervously) That was... different. I've never done anything like that before.
Landlord: And you took to it like a natural, my dear. The way your tongue probed and explored, how you moaned as you tasted me. I bet you've been craving it ever since, haven't you?
Aradhya: (typed with shaky fingers) Please, Mr. Banerjee. That was a mistake. We can't do this anymore.
Landlord: A mistake? Is that what you call it when you squirted all over my face? Don't lie to yourself. You need this. You need me!
Aradhya's thighs pressed together, her arousal evident. "I don't know what to say," she whispered to me.
I swallowed hard, my own body responding to the explicit messages. "Maybe... maybe you should hear him out.", I suggested, my voice hoarse. "We don't want to make things awkward with our living situation."
Aradhya raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you serious? After everything that happened the times before?"
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even as my erection kept twitching in my pants. "It's up to you, of course. But... it might be worth considering."
She sighed, then turned back to her phone.
Landlord: I'm waiting, Aradhya. Don't make me come up there and remind you of your place.
My wife’s hands shook as she typed.
Aradhya: What did you have in mind?
Landlord: That's my good girl. I wanna see you tomorrow. 1 PM. And I want you wearing something special.
Aradhya gasped softly, her thighs pressing together again. I could see the effect Mr. Banerjee's words were having on her - and on me.
Aradhya: Special?
Landlord: Remember that traditional ghagra choli I bought you? The sheer one with the gold embroidery?
Aradhya: (hesitatant) You mean... the one that's practically see-through?
Landlord: Precisely. I want you in that, with nothing underneath. No bra, no panties. Show off every curve, every inch of that delectable body.
Her face flushed crimson as she read the message aloud to me, her voice trembling.
Landlord: And don't forget the dupatta. Dbang it loosely. I want easy access to those perfect tits of yours.
Aradhya: (types shakily) Mr. Banerjee, that's... that's so revealing. I'd be practically naked.
Landlord: That's the point, my little slut. I want you on display. Those nipples poking through the fabric, your pussy lips visible with every step.
Aradhya looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. "I don't know if I should..."
I swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "It's your choice."
Aradhya: (after a long pause, typed) Okay. The sheer ghagra choli. No... no underwear.
Landlord: Good whore. I can't wait to see you. To touch you. To taste every inch of that body you're offering up to me.
My wife put her phone down, her breathing ragged. "What have we gotten ourselves into?", she murmured, her hand between her legs.
I moved closer, my own heart racing. "I don’t know. But it might be something we could enjoy.", I whispered, my hand sliding up her thigh.
My fingers found her pussy, already soaking wet. As I slipped them inside her, I couldn't help but imagine how she'd look tomorrow, practically naked in that sheer outfit, on display for our landlord's hungry eyes. The thought made me harder than I'd been in a while.
"Fuck!", I groaned, burying my face in her neck. "Tomorrow's going to be intense."
She moaned softly, grinding against my hand. "Y-yeah….", she gasped. "It really is."
As I fingered her to a shuddering orgasm, I knew our lives were about to change forever. And I couldn't fucking wait.
***
The morning sunlight slanted through our bedroom window as I adjusted my tie, watching Aradhya in the mirror. She sat at her vanity, deliberately applying kajal with practiced strokes. "The cameras are all set up.", I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, "Same spots as... as last time." I swallowed hard, remembering how I'd watched her with Mr. Banerjee before.
"You're sure about the cameras, Ari?", she asked, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection. She was wearing that maroon silk robe I'd gotten her last Diwali, the one that clung to her curves in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her long black hair fell loose down her back, still damp from her shower. "Are you really okay with this? This isn't like with Harpreet... or even like the other times with Mr. Banerjee."
I nodded, though my hands wouldn't stop shaking. "I... I want to watch." Heat crept up my neck as I admitted it. "Like before."
Aradhya set down her makeup and turned to face me directly. The robe parted slightly as she crossed her legs, revealing a glimpse of smooth brown thigh. She then stood and came to me, her fingers gentle as she fixed my crooked tie. "Ari, you're trembling." Her dark eyes searched mine. "Tell me what you're thinking. Really thinking."
"I keep remembering how he looks at you.", I admitted, my voice cracking slightly. "It feels like ages ago. But he... he was so rough with you last time."
"Rougher than Harpreet ever was that’s for sure.", she agreed. "The names he called me while I... serviced him. The way he made me thank him after spitting on me."
My hands shook harder. "But today..."
"Today he gets everything.", she finished. "No more just using my mouth or making me rim him. He's been patient, Ari. Even when he had me licking his….", she paused.
I gripped the dresser for support. "The things he makes you say..."
"'Thank you for letting me taste your asshole, sir.'", she quoted softly. "'This dirty whore is grateful for your spit.' He loves humiliating me like that."
"Are you... are you scared?", I asked.
"A little. You've seen how nasty he gets. How he loves slapping my breasts while I blow him. Making me beg for more.", Her breath hitched. "But that's what makes you hard, isn't it? Watching your wife be degraded by our fat old landlord?"
I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs, caught off guard by the bluntness spilling from her lips. She’d never been this bold—never laid it out so bare, so unashamed. I could only whimper in response. My cock stirred at her words, straining against my office trousers.
"Mmmmm, someone's excited.", she teased, giving me a squeeze that made my hips buck. "But are you sure? Really sure? Because once he's inside me..." She let the sentence hang.
I grabbed her hips, pulling her harder against me. "Fuck, Aradhya. Yes. I've never been more sure of anything." The words came out in a rush. "I want to watch that fat bastard fuck my beautiful wife. I want to see you take his cock while I'm sitting in my office, knowing everyone around me has no idea what's happening."
She moaned softly, grinding against my erection. "Tell me more, Ari. Tell me exactly what you think about."
My hands cupped her ass through the silk. "I think about how wet you get when he visits. How your nipples get hard when he looks at you. I think about his hands on your breasts, his mouth on your neck." My breathing was getting ragged. "I think about him bending you over our bed - the bed where I fuck you every night - and sliding his thick cock into my wife's pussy."
"Fuck!", she whimpered, her hand working faster through my pants. "And you'll be watching? The whole time?"
"Every second.", I promised, slipping my hand inside her robe to find her bare underneath. My fingers found her already slick. "I'll have my cock out at my desk, stroking myself while I watch another man fuck my wife......again!"
She was panting now, rocking against my hand. "What if- what if I cum for him? What if he makes me scream?"
"Then I'll cum too!", I growled, "Watching my beautiful wife get her pussy filled with another man's cock. Watching you writhe and moan and beg for it…."
"Because he owns us," she finished, her voice husky. "And now he's going to own your wife too. Right there on our bed, while you watch from your office like the good little cuck you are."
"Aradhya..." I whimpered. The word "cuck" sliced through me and a nervous flush stained my cheeks, my gaze flicking between my wife and the bed where Mr. Banerjee would soon take her. I was close to cumming just from her words and touch.
She released me suddenly. "No, baby. Save it. I want you aching while you watch." She stepped back, letting her robe fall open slightly. "I'll wear that slutty ghagra-choli he likes. The one that makes me look like his personal slut. No blouse. No petticoat. Nothing. He won't be able to keep his hands off me. Not that he ever could before."
"Oh gosh!", I moaned, having to think about work reports to keep from cumming in my pants. My breath caught, surprise surging through me at how easily she owned it, how she leaned into this filthy game with a confidence I’d never seen. She used to be so shy—my modern wife, all coy smiles and modest blouses, blushing at a stray compliment, keeping her desires locked tight behind that sweet, reserved facade. Now here she was, shedding that skin like it’d never fit, talking about dressing like his slut
"You should go.", she said, giving me a gentle push toward the door. "Get to your office. Lock your door. Get nice and comfortable.", Her smile turned predatory. "Your wife's about to become Mr. Banerjee's personal plaything."
I nearly stumbled on my way out, my legs weak. The walk to my car was torture, my cock still rock hard from our encounter. As I settled into the driver's seat, my phone buzzed with a text from her. I opened it to find a picture of her in the red outfit, dbangd perfectly to hint at the nakedness underneath. The caption read: "For your desktop background at work. So everyone who passes your office knows what a whore your wife is becoming."
The drive to work was torture. Every red light brought new images: Mr. Banerjee's sweaty hands on my wife’s dusky breasts, his thick fingers pushing into her mouth like he'd done before, his heavy body pressing her into our marital bed. It was different from watching Harpreet - that had been raw and animalistic. This was darker, dirtier somehow.
At the office, I could barely focus. Every few minutes I checked the camera feeds, remembering other times I'd watched through them. Mr. Banerjee's previous visits, his wandering hands getting bolder each time. That afternoon with Harpreet, how Aradhya had screamed when he took her.
At 12:45, a text from Aradhya: "He's been sending messages all morning. Says he can't wait to 'inspect the property' thoroughly today."
My cock throbbed painfully as I thought about him using that phrase - property inspection - every time he wanted to grope my wife.
At 1:00 PM sharp, my phone rang.
"He's here.", Aradhya whispered. "Watch me, baby. Watch your sweet, sultry wife become our chubby old landlord’s personal slut." She then disconnected the call. My cock throbbed, straining harder at the thought, but my mind reeled—where’d my timid Aradhya gone, and when had she turned into this vixen who knew exactly how to twist me up and leave me aching?
"Everything okay?", I asked, looking up from my laptop.
My wife bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before answering. "It's Mr. Banerjee. He's texting me again. I've been ignoring him, but he's getting... insistent."
My heart rate quickened. Our portly landlord had once been a frequent visitor to our apartment - well, more accurately, to my wife's body - for weeks before. Their encounters had grown increasingly depraved, pushing her boundaries in ways that both shocked and aroused her. The last time had been particularly intense. I still remembered the vivid details Aradhya had shared with me afterward.
"What does he want?", I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral, though my throat tightened with a mix of dread and curiosity, my eyes flicking to her phone.
Aradhya sighed, unlocking her phone. "Let's see..."
Landlord: Aradhya, my insatiable little slut, I've had enough of your silence. You can't ignore me forever.
I swallowed hard, a hot flush creeping up my neck as his crude words hit me. He was so brazen, so possessive — calling her his, like I wasn’t even in the picture.
Aradhya: (hesitated before replying) Mr. Banerjee, I've told you, we can't keep doing this.
Landlord: Can't? Or won't? Don't pretend you don't crave my cock, my dear. I still remember the way you begged for it last time.
Aradhya: (shifted uncomfortably, her thighs pressing together) That was... different. We went too far.
Landlord: Too far? Oh, my sweet whore, we've only scratched the surface. Or have you forgotten how you screamed when I fingered that tight cunt of yours?
A jolt shot through me, my cock stiffening against my trousers. His filthy language painted it too clear—her screaming, his pudgy fingers inside her, claiming what was mine. I hated him, hated how he’d made her lose control, but gosh, I was rock-hard imagining it.
Aradhya: (typed with shaking fingers) Mr. Banerjee, please. What we did... it was too intense.
Landlord: Intense? Oh my dear, that's putting it mildly. Your pussy tasted divine, and the way you moaned when I sucked on your clit... And let's not forget how eagerly you buried your face between my ass cheeks.
I felt a jolt of arousal at Mr. Banerjee's crude words. The image of Aradhya, my wife, rimming our portly landlord's hairy asshole was both shocking and incredibly arousing.
Aradhya: (glanced at me nervously) That was... different. I've never done anything like that before.
Landlord: And you took to it like a natural, my dear. The way your tongue probed and explored, how you moaned as you tasted me. I bet you've been craving it ever since, haven't you?
Aradhya: (typed with shaky fingers) Please, Mr. Banerjee. That was a mistake. We can't do this anymore.
Landlord: A mistake? Is that what you call it when you squirted all over my face? Don't lie to yourself. You need this. You need me!
Aradhya's thighs pressed together, her arousal evident. "I don't know what to say," she whispered to me.
I swallowed hard, my own body responding to the explicit messages. "Maybe... maybe you should hear him out.", I suggested, my voice hoarse. "We don't want to make things awkward with our living situation."
Aradhya raised an eyebrow at me. "Are you serious? After everything that happened the times before?"
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even as my erection kept twitching in my pants. "It's up to you, of course. But... it might be worth considering."
She sighed, then turned back to her phone.
Landlord: I'm waiting, Aradhya. Don't make me come up there and remind you of your place.
My wife’s hands shook as she typed.
Aradhya: What did you have in mind?
Landlord: That's my good girl. I wanna see you tomorrow. 1 PM. And I want you wearing something special.
Aradhya gasped softly, her thighs pressing together again. I could see the effect Mr. Banerjee's words were having on her - and on me.
Aradhya: Special?
Landlord: Remember that traditional ghagra choli I bought you? The sheer one with the gold embroidery?
Aradhya: (hesitatant) You mean... the one that's practically see-through?
Landlord: Precisely. I want you in that, with nothing underneath. No bra, no panties. Show off every curve, every inch of that delectable body.
Her face flushed crimson as she read the message aloud to me, her voice trembling.
Landlord: And don't forget the dupatta. Dbang it loosely. I want easy access to those perfect tits of yours.
Aradhya: (types shakily) Mr. Banerjee, that's... that's so revealing. I'd be practically naked.
Landlord: That's the point, my little slut. I want you on display. Those nipples poking through the fabric, your pussy lips visible with every step.
Aradhya looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. "I don't know if I should..."
I swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "It's your choice."
Aradhya: (after a long pause, typed) Okay. The sheer ghagra choli. No... no underwear.
Landlord: Good whore. I can't wait to see you. To touch you. To taste every inch of that body you're offering up to me.
My wife put her phone down, her breathing ragged. "What have we gotten ourselves into?", she murmured, her hand between her legs.
I moved closer, my own heart racing. "I don’t know. But it might be something we could enjoy.", I whispered, my hand sliding up her thigh.
My fingers found her pussy, already soaking wet. As I slipped them inside her, I couldn't help but imagine how she'd look tomorrow, practically naked in that sheer outfit, on display for our landlord's hungry eyes. The thought made me harder than I'd been in a while.
"Fuck!", I groaned, burying my face in her neck. "Tomorrow's going to be intense."
She moaned softly, grinding against my hand. "Y-yeah….", she gasped. "It really is."
As I fingered her to a shuddering orgasm, I knew our lives were about to change forever. And I couldn't fucking wait.
***
The morning sunlight slanted through our bedroom window as I adjusted my tie, watching Aradhya in the mirror. She sat at her vanity, deliberately applying kajal with practiced strokes. "The cameras are all set up.", I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, "Same spots as... as last time." I swallowed hard, remembering how I'd watched her with Mr. Banerjee before.
"You're sure about the cameras, Ari?", she asked, her eyes meeting mine in the reflection. She was wearing that maroon silk robe I'd gotten her last Diwali, the one that clung to her curves in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her long black hair fell loose down her back, still damp from her shower. "Are you really okay with this? This isn't like with Harpreet... or even like the other times with Mr. Banerjee."
I nodded, though my hands wouldn't stop shaking. "I... I want to watch." Heat crept up my neck as I admitted it. "Like before."
Aradhya set down her makeup and turned to face me directly. The robe parted slightly as she crossed her legs, revealing a glimpse of smooth brown thigh. She then stood and came to me, her fingers gentle as she fixed my crooked tie. "Ari, you're trembling." Her dark eyes searched mine. "Tell me what you're thinking. Really thinking."
"I keep remembering how he looks at you.", I admitted, my voice cracking slightly. "It feels like ages ago. But he... he was so rough with you last time."
"Rougher than Harpreet ever was that’s for sure.", she agreed. "The names he called me while I... serviced him. The way he made me thank him after spitting on me."
My hands shook harder. "But today..."
"Today he gets everything.", she finished. "No more just using my mouth or making me rim him. He's been patient, Ari. Even when he had me licking his….", she paused.
I gripped the dresser for support. "The things he makes you say..."
"'Thank you for letting me taste your asshole, sir.'", she quoted softly. "'This dirty whore is grateful for your spit.' He loves humiliating me like that."
"Are you... are you scared?", I asked.
"A little. You've seen how nasty he gets. How he loves slapping my breasts while I blow him. Making me beg for more.", Her breath hitched. "But that's what makes you hard, isn't it? Watching your wife be degraded by our fat old landlord?"
I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs, caught off guard by the bluntness spilling from her lips. She’d never been this bold—never laid it out so bare, so unashamed. I could only whimper in response. My cock stirred at her words, straining against my office trousers.
"Mmmmm, someone's excited.", she teased, giving me a squeeze that made my hips buck. "But are you sure? Really sure? Because once he's inside me..." She let the sentence hang.
I grabbed her hips, pulling her harder against me. "Fuck, Aradhya. Yes. I've never been more sure of anything." The words came out in a rush. "I want to watch that fat bastard fuck my beautiful wife. I want to see you take his cock while I'm sitting in my office, knowing everyone around me has no idea what's happening."
She moaned softly, grinding against my erection. "Tell me more, Ari. Tell me exactly what you think about."
My hands cupped her ass through the silk. "I think about how wet you get when he visits. How your nipples get hard when he looks at you. I think about his hands on your breasts, his mouth on your neck." My breathing was getting ragged. "I think about him bending you over our bed - the bed where I fuck you every night - and sliding his thick cock into my wife's pussy."
"Fuck!", she whimpered, her hand working faster through my pants. "And you'll be watching? The whole time?"
"Every second.", I promised, slipping my hand inside her robe to find her bare underneath. My fingers found her already slick. "I'll have my cock out at my desk, stroking myself while I watch another man fuck my wife......again!"
She was panting now, rocking against my hand. "What if- what if I cum for him? What if he makes me scream?"
"Then I'll cum too!", I growled, "Watching my beautiful wife get her pussy filled with another man's cock. Watching you writhe and moan and beg for it…."
"Because he owns us," she finished, her voice husky. "And now he's going to own your wife too. Right there on our bed, while you watch from your office like the good little cuck you are."
"Aradhya..." I whimpered. The word "cuck" sliced through me and a nervous flush stained my cheeks, my gaze flicking between my wife and the bed where Mr. Banerjee would soon take her. I was close to cumming just from her words and touch.
She released me suddenly. "No, baby. Save it. I want you aching while you watch." She stepped back, letting her robe fall open slightly. "I'll wear that slutty ghagra-choli he likes. The one that makes me look like his personal slut. No blouse. No petticoat. Nothing. He won't be able to keep his hands off me. Not that he ever could before."
"Oh gosh!", I moaned, having to think about work reports to keep from cumming in my pants. My breath caught, surprise surging through me at how easily she owned it, how she leaned into this filthy game with a confidence I’d never seen. She used to be so shy—my modern wife, all coy smiles and modest blouses, blushing at a stray compliment, keeping her desires locked tight behind that sweet, reserved facade. Now here she was, shedding that skin like it’d never fit, talking about dressing like his slut
"You should go.", she said, giving me a gentle push toward the door. "Get to your office. Lock your door. Get nice and comfortable.", Her smile turned predatory. "Your wife's about to become Mr. Banerjee's personal plaything."
I nearly stumbled on my way out, my legs weak. The walk to my car was torture, my cock still rock hard from our encounter. As I settled into the driver's seat, my phone buzzed with a text from her. I opened it to find a picture of her in the red outfit, dbangd perfectly to hint at the nakedness underneath. The caption read: "For your desktop background at work. So everyone who passes your office knows what a whore your wife is becoming."
The drive to work was torture. Every red light brought new images: Mr. Banerjee's sweaty hands on my wife’s dusky breasts, his thick fingers pushing into her mouth like he'd done before, his heavy body pressing her into our marital bed. It was different from watching Harpreet - that had been raw and animalistic. This was darker, dirtier somehow.
At the office, I could barely focus. Every few minutes I checked the camera feeds, remembering other times I'd watched through them. Mr. Banerjee's previous visits, his wandering hands getting bolder each time. That afternoon with Harpreet, how Aradhya had screamed when he took her.
At 12:45, a text from Aradhya: "He's been sending messages all morning. Says he can't wait to 'inspect the property' thoroughly today."
My cock throbbed painfully as I thought about him using that phrase - property inspection - every time he wanted to grope my wife.
At 1:00 PM sharp, my phone rang.
"He's here.", Aradhya whispered. "Watch me, baby. Watch your sweet, sultry wife become our chubby old landlord’s personal slut." She then disconnected the call. My cock throbbed, straining harder at the thought, but my mind reeled—where’d my timid Aradhya gone, and when had she turned into this vixen who knew exactly how to twist me up and leave me aching?
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