Wicked Whispers

[rinxox]

That single thought refused to leave his mind—his wife, the woman he always saw as shy, reserved, and deeply religious, possibly being the star of a viral mms. And not just any tape—a filthy, reckless fuck in public, the kind that had gotten passed around between horny college boys, making them groan as they stroked themselves to the sight of an unknown girl riding a cock with desperate need.  

And he—he had been one of them.  

Ali felt sick. And turned on. 

His head was a mess. He didn't know whether to confront her, to scream at her, or to lock himself in the bathroom and watch that damn video again, this time with a new perspective. Was it really her? Had he spent nights jerking off to his own wife getting railed by another man?  

Sheeza, his sweet, homely, modest wife, who now dressed in long salwar suits, who blushed when he touched her in public, who rarely even kissed him without dimmed lights—was this the same woman who once moaned like a slut in front of a hidden camera?  

Ali’s hands clenched into fists. He had fallen for her innocence, the way she lowered her gaze when he first met her at her parents' house. She had been too beautiful, too delicate, too innocent. He remembered how she had shyly smiled, how she had spoken in that soft, respectful tone. He had thought she was pure, a woman raised with strict values.  

And she had played the part perfectly.  

She do her religious duty,prey 4 times. She scolded him if he cursed too much. She refused to wear revealing clothes even at home, saying it was not proper. She had resisted when he had asked her to be more adventurous in bed.  

And yet… if that video was real, if that girl in the pink sweater bouncing on a thick cock was her, then all of it had been a lie.  

Not only had she had a boyfriend, but she had let him fuck her so wildly, so shamelessly, that the world had seen it.  

Ali’s cock twitched in his pants.  

He hated it. Hated that the mere idea of it was making him hard. Hated that despite his rage, his betrayal, his disgust—his body was betraying him.  

Because whether he liked it or not, the image was now burned into his brain. His beautiful, innocent wife, not so innocent after all.

 Lunch

The weekend visit to Sheeza’s parents' house was supposed to be a routine affair—polite conversations, home-cooked meals, and Ayan basking in the attention of his grandparents.

Ali sat with Sheeza’s father, a well-respected man in the community, still sharp and commanding even in his late fifties. The conversation revolved around business, investments, and Ali’s upcoming projects. The older man spoke with pride, treating Ali like the ideal son-in-law.

Meanwhile, Sheeza and her mother were busy in the kitchen, preparing lunch, while her younger brother, now nineteen, lazed around on the sofa, occasionally chiming into their chatter.

At the dining table, the conversation took a different turn.

“Sheeza was never interested in cooking,” her mother said, shaking her head. “Always running away from the kitchen during her college years.”

Sheeza huffed playfully. “I was busy studying.”

Her mother scoffed. “Studying? You were a bad student! Your results show it.”

Her younger brother smirked, jumping in. “Exactly. You barely passed some semesters. What were you really busy with, huh?”

Ali swallowed hard.

He looked at Sheeza, waiting for her reaction. She just laughed it off, rolling her eyes at her family’s teasing.

But his mind twisted the conversation into something darker.

Yeah, she was busy, alright.

Busy learning how to take a cock down her throat. Busy sneaking off with Ashish. Busy moaning like a little slut while her best friend Noor waited outside the room, listening.

Ali clenched his jaw as a sickening mix of anger and arousal coiled in his gut.

His mother-in-law had no idea. She thought her daughter had been innocent, just a distracted student. She had no clue that Sheeza had been a cock-hungry little thing back in college, bad at cooking but an expert at sucking dick.

The rest of lunch passed in a blur. He barely spoke, barely ate. The sounds of laughter, family warmth, all of it felt distant. His mind was still replaying that video—whether real or imagined—of Sheeza in that pink sweater, bouncing on another man’s cock in the hills of Manali.

The drive home was silent.

Sheeza noticed. “Ali, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just work stress,” he muttered, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

She reached over, resting her soft, delicate hand on his thigh. “Don’t stress so much. You already do so much for us. You don’t have to work so hard.”

Her voice was gentle. Sweet.

It only made him feel worse.

He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that the past didn’t matter, that she was his now, devoted, loyal.

But the whispers in his mind wouldn’t stop.

Sheeza—his beautiful, religious wife—was once a filthy, reckless slut. And he had been blind to it all.



Two weeks had passed, yet Ali couldn’t shake the unease that clung to him.

Every time he met Noor, it was almost unpleasant. She always has that displease look on her face when she looked at him ,he had told Sheeza many times about it ,but Sheeza always dismissed it saying ,she is messing with him.

And now, she had invited them to her housewarming party.  

Ali didn’t want to go.  

Everything in him screamed against it, but something stronger, something almost paranoid, told him that Sheeza shouldn’t go alone.  

Why?  

Because deep down, he knew.  

There was a chance Ashish—Sheeza’s ex, the man who had once been between her legs, the man she had moaned for while Noor listened from outside the room—would be there.  

And if Ashish was there… Ali needed to be there too.  

 

The Night of the Party

Sheeza stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her saree.  

Ali watched her in silence.  

She rarely wore sarees, but when she did, she looked devastating. The deep maroon fabric dbangd over her curves like it was meant for her, the soft shimmer catching the light in a way that made his throat dry. She had gone to the salon earlier—her hair was styled in perfect waves, her eyeliner sharp, her lips painted a bold, sinful red.  

Ali’s jaw clenched.  

She looked… too beautiful. Too perfect.  

Was she dressing up for him?  

Or was she getting ready to see him?  

That old insecurity crept up again.  

Was this how she used to dress for Ashish? When she rode him in the backseat of his car while Noor watched? When she let him spill himself inside her in some cheap hotel room?  

Sheeza caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled. “What? Why are you staring?”  

Ali forced a smile. “You look… beautiful.”  

She giggled, adjusting her bangles. “You’re acting strange today. Are you feeling okay?”  

He wasn’t.  

He didn’t know why exactly, but his gut told him that tonight would change something.  

For better or for worse.  

“Are you ready?” she asked, picking up her clutch.  

Ali took a breath. “Yeah. Let’s go.”  

The car ride was silent.  

Sheeza hummed softly, occasionally adjusting the pleats of her saree, completely oblivious to the storm in Ali’s head.  



Noor greeted them, wearing a pink bodycon dress that accentuated her busty figure, with a teasing glimpse of cleavage.  

Ali knew Noor was a bad influence—she had a streak of boyfriends since he had known her. Now, her latest fling would be living with her.  

Soon, her boyfriend Raj joined them, placing a hand on her waist as he greeted them. Ali remembered him; Noor had been with him for a year. Otherwise, it was hard to keep track of Noor’s ever-changing relationships.  

The party was lively, the place buzzing with people.  

Noor took Sheeza’s hand and led her away, leaving Ali alone with Raj.  

They exchanged casual conversation over drinks, but Ali’s mind was elsewhere.  

His eyes were searching.  

Where was his wife?



Then he saw him.  

A tall, muscular guy standing close to Sheeza, speaking in a low voice that made her blush. She was tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smiling in that shy way Ali knew all too well.  

His chest tightened. He knew it was Ashish.  

Ali clenched his jaw. He couldn’t just stand there like a spectator—Sheeza was his wife. He had to assert his presence.  

He stepped forward. Noor was the first to notice, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.  

“Oh, Ali! Come here, meet an old friend—this is Ashish,” she said, her tone dripping with mischief.  

Ali extended his hand, gripping Ashish’s firmly.  

“I’m Ali, Sheeza’s husband.”  

Ashish’s lips twitched as if he was holding back amusement. “Ah, so you’re the lucky guy.”  

His words sent a strange heat through Ali’s veins.  

“I’m Ashish.”  

“How do you know her?” Ali asked, keeping his voice neutral.  

“From college,” Ashish replied casually, glancing at Sheeza, who shifted uncomfortably.  

Ali waited, sensing there was more.  

Ashish chuckled. “Man, those were some wild days, huh, Sheeza?”  

Sheeza forced a polite smile. “That was a long time ago.”  

“But unforgettable,” Ashish added, his eyes lingering on her. “She was the life of our group. Always up for… adventure.”  

Ali’s grip tightened around his drink.  

Noor interjected, laughing. “Oh, come on, Ashish, don’t embarrass the poor girl in front of her husband.”  

Ashish smirked. “Just reminiscing, that’s all. Those were good old days .”  

Ali could feel his pulse in his ears. He didn’t need the details spelled out—he could hear the insinuation dripping from every word.  

More people joined them, college friends of Sheeza and Ashish. The group was lively, swapping old stories, laughing, but Ali felt like an outsider.  

Every casual comment, every knowing glance, every chuckle carried a weight he couldn’t ignore.



Ashish swirled his drink, his eyes lingering on Sheeza before turning to Ali with a smirk. “You know, at first glance, anyone would think Sheeza was the quiet, studious type. Always so proper, always so... reserved.”  

Ali forced a small smile. “Yeah, she’s always been like that.”  

Ashish chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s the funny thing. You think you have someone figured out, and then they surprise you. Back in college, man… let’s just say Sheeza had a way of proving people wrong.”  

Sheeza let out a nervous laugh, adjusting the pallu of her saree. “Ashish, you’re making it sound like I was some kind of rebel.”  

Noor, sipping her drink, smirked. “Oh, but you were, weren’t you? Just in your own way.”  

Ali’s fingers tightened around his glass as Ashish continued, his tone casual, almost nostalgic. “I mean, yeah, she was disciplined. But once she got comfortable… well, let’s just say she could be very dedicated.”  

Sheeza swallowed, forcing a smile. “Okay, enough about college days.”  

Ashish raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no harm in reminiscing. Some people leave an impression, that’s all. Some memories just... stick.”  

Ali felt something churn in his gut as Ashish’s words hung in the air. Innocent enough on the surface, but the glint in his eyes told a different story