17-04-2025, 09:02 AM
The next morning, I woke to the buzz of my phone on the nightstand, sunlight creeping through the curtains. Aradhya was still asleep beside me, her dusky skin bare against the sheets, her breath steady. I grabbed the phone, squinting at the screen—a text from Tashan at 9:17: “Hey man, thought about my offer? You and your wife up for it?” My pulse jumped, a sharp kick in my chest as memories of his proposition flooded back—him, lean and cocky, lounging across from me at that café last week, sipping his black coffee with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with a challenge as he’d casually asked if I’d like to watch him fuck my wife, like it was no big deal, just another Tuesday.
My cock stirred instantly, a painful throb stretching against my boxers as I reread his words, the weight of them sinking in. Tashan wasn’t just some random guy—he was Aradhya’s ex from college, a wiry, charming asshole who’d dated her back when she was all shy smiles and textbooks, before I’d even met her. I already knew he’d fucked her once since then - just a few days ago.
I had asked Aradhya about his offer just before the incident with our landlord, that late night last week when we’d lain in bed, the air thick with the afterglow of talking about Banerjee and Harpreet. Her noncommittal answer had left me hanging, her eyes searching mine before she’d turned over, leaving it unresolved.
I typed back fast: “Yeah, we’re both ready. Let’s make a plan.” My finger hovered over send, my stomach twisting tighter. I hit send anyway, my breath shallow, jumping the gun despite the flicker of conflict gnawing at me. It wasn’t just the thrill pushing me now—there was a jagged edge to it, knowing he’d had her before, knowing he was her ex, someone who’d known her body years before I did. Banerjee was a sleazy old pig, Harpreet a brute, but Tashan—he was personal, tied to her past, and that made this feel riskier, heavier. Still, the image of him fucking her in front of me, his lean frame over her curvy one, her moaning his name like she had back then—it lit me up, a sick, pulsing heat I couldn’t resist, even if it left me slightly unsteady, wondering if I was diving too deep this time.
I set the phone down and turned to her, hesitating as she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.
“Morning,” she mumbled, stretching, her bouncy 34C tits shifting under the sheet, her voice still groggy.
I swallowed, steeling myself. “Aradhya… I told Tashan we’re in. For his offer.”
Her brow furrowed, confusion snapping into something sharper as she sat up fast, the sheet slipping to her waist, her gaze piercing. “What? You mean him taking me while you’re there?”, she demanded, her voice rising, tinged with anger and disbelief.
I nodded, my tone steady despite the heat in my chest. “Yeah, we’re ready for this. Banerjee, Harpreet, Tashan—they’ve all given you such incredible highs, Aradhya, and being part of that with you has been amazing. This is the next piece for us—me being right there, watching you light up like you do.”
Her eyes narrowed, her fingers clutching the sheet tight, her breath quickening. “Ari, are you serious? Watching on camera’s one thing—this is in person. How can you be so sure?” Her voice cracked, skepticism cutting through, her upset clear as she leaned back, arms crossing over her chest.
I slid closer, my hand finding hers, holding it gently. “I’m sure because we’ve built this together—you’ve told me how Mr. Banerjee’s intensity shook you, how Harpreet’s roughness drove you wild, how Tashan knew just what you liked. I’ve seen it, heard it. But this time I want to be there for real, Aradhya, watching you feel that pleasure right in front of me.” I kept my voice soft, letting her see it wasn’t just about me—it was about her, about us sharing what got her off.
She scowled, chewing her lip, her upset spilling out. “This isn’t some video you can shut off! What if it fucks us up? I love you—I don’t want to lose you over this!” Her voice trembled, raw with fear and frustration, her eyes searching mine—Banerjee’s filth, Harpreet’s power, Tashan’s past with her all flashing behind her glare.
I squeezed her hand, my tone calm but firm. “It won’t mess us up—I won’t let it. We’ve shared how good they’ve made you feel. I just want to see it live, sweetheart, see you lose yourself like that. We’ll handle it together, like always—you’re not losing me.”
She stared at me, her anger softening into a conflicted frown, her fingers twitching in mine. “You’re insane!”, she muttered, then paused, her voice dropping. “Fine… I’ll admit it—telling you how they’ve made me feel, knowing you’ve watched… it turns me on too. A lot. But in person? I’m scared, Arijit. What’s this going to do to us later? I don’t know if I can handle it shifting things.” Her confession warmed me—her arousal echoing mine—but her skepticism lingered, heavy with worry about our future.
I leaned in, my grip reassuring. “It won’t shift what we’ve got. We’ve loved how they’ve pleasured you—this is just closer, more real. I want to see you feel that good, Aradhya, and I'll be strong through it. If it’s too much, we stop—together.”
She studied me, her eyes still wary but easing, her fingers lacing with mine. “Okay… but you better be damn sure about this!”, she said at last, her tone reluctant but softening, a shaky nod following. “I’ll do it—for you, for us—but if it feels off, even for a second, we’re both out. Deal?” I nodded back, relief and a quiet thrill building, my cock stiffening at the thought of Tashan making her moan in front of me, her pleasure the heart of it all.
“Deal!”, I exclaimed, my voice steady as I pulled her into a soft, careful kiss, sealing this step we’d take together, her caution a thread I’d weave into our shared ride.
After our shaky kiss, my wife slipped out of bed to shower, leaving me alone with the rumpled sheets and my buzzing thoughts. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my fingers hovering over the screen, a jittery mix of anticipation and nerves sparking through me. My chest tightened as I started typing, thumbs fumbling slightly, the weight of what my wife and I had just agreed to sinking in. I laid out what we’d talked about — how we were stepping into this together, how I wanted to see her feel that rush in person—my breath shallow as I pictured Tashan reading it, smirking that cocky smirk of his.
I suggested a date—Saturday night, three days away—and a time, 8 p.m., my fingers trembling as I hit send, locking us into this. The wait for his reply stretched, my leg bouncing against the mattress, anticipation swelling like a tide I couldn’t hold back, laced with a jittery edge that made my palms sweat. When the phone buzzed back, confirming it, my heart lurched—half exhilaration, half dread—Saturday was coming, and I’d be there, watching her glow, nerves and all.
***
The next day, Friday, I sat at my office desk, the hum of keyboards and muted chatter fading as my mind drifted to tomorrow. I pulled out my phone and texted Aradhya: “Hey, get ready after I’m back—we’ll go shopping for tomorrow night before the date.” Her reply came quick, “Okay, sounds good.”
I smiled despite the nervous flutter in my chest, already imagining her prepping for her ex. The workday dragged, but when I finally stepped into our apartment that evening, the sight of her stopped me cold. My sweet, sexy wife, stood by the mirror, brushing on light mascara, her dusky skin glowing under a touch of blush and a slick of pink gloss. She wore a sleeveless, backless anarkali top—deep red, sheer at the sides, clinging tight to her modest mammaries, the thin fabric letting her nipples hint through without a blouse beneath. The plunging neckline dipped low, framing her cleavage, while the flared skirt stopped mid-thigh, slit high on one side to flash her smooth, toned leg with every step—a sexy twist on tradition that left little to the imagination. No churidar, just the top and a pair of gold anklets tinkling faintly, her confidence radiating. She used to step out in modest salwar suits or long kurtas, always covered, shy about drawing eyes—now she looked like she craved them, and I was floored.
“You look… amazing!”, I managed, my voice catching, impressed and stunned by this bold new Aradhya, her transformation hitting me hard after Harpreet, Banerjee, and Tashan had peeled away her old shell.
She caught my stare in the mirror, smirking. “Thought I’d switch it up,” she said, tossing her hair, that newfound edge in her tone making my pulse skip. We grabbed our metro cards and headed out, the local train packed with evening commuters. As we stood holding the rail, heads turned—guys in suits, college kids, even a grizzled old man—all ogling her bare back, the curve of her hips, the flash of thigh through the slit as the train rocked. She noticed, her eyes flicking over the crowd, and then—fuck—she smirked at a tall guy in a hoodie across from us, a quick, flirty curl of her lips right in front of me. My throat tightened, a jolt of shock and heat hitting me — her boldness was unreal now.
At the mall, we headed to an upscale boutique, the kind with sleek racks and overpriced tags. A young sales assistant — 19 or 20, lanky with a mop of dark hair — couldn’t peel his eyes off her as we walked in, his gaze lingering on her exposed skin. She smiled at him, a small, playful curve of her lips, and that emboldened him to stride over.
“Can I help you find something?”, he asked, his voice eager, almost tripping over itself.
I cleared my throat, a reflex kicking in. “Uh, is there a lady available? We’re here for her outfit.”, I said, pointing at my wife.
But the kid grinned, unfazed. “I’ve got this, sir—trust me, I know my stuff.”
Aradhya shrugged, her eyes glinting with amusement. “He’s fine, Ari—I don’t mind.”, she said, her tone light but firm, another flash of that boldness I was still wrapping my head around.
The young sales assistant’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his boyish face as he realized he’d scored the chance to help this sweet, sultry married woman who radiated a vibe he couldn’t resist. I stood back, arms crossed, a skeptical knot tightening in my chest—jealousy prickling as I watched him practically bounce on his heels, too eager for my liking. But Aradhya’s calm confidence steadied me; she knew what she was doing, and I trusted her, even if my gut churned watching this young man eye her like a prize.
He stepped closer, brushing a hand through his dark mop of hair. “By the way, myself Param. What’re you looking for today, ma'am?”
Aradhya turned to him, her lips curling into a sly smile as she adjusted her anarkali top, the sheer fabric shifting to tease more of her dusky skin. “Oh, just something… eye-catching. For a date tomorrow night.”, she paused, then shot me a quick wink, her eyes glinting with mischief.
I swallowed, my throat dry, caught off guard by that wink—playful, knowing, like she was pulling me into her game. Param didn’t notice, too busy nodding enthusiastically as he darted toward a rack of shimmering outfits, pulling out a sleek lehenga with a cropped, sequined choli.
Param: This one’s killer—shows off the right curves, perfect for a night out. What do you think?
He held it up, his gaze flicking between the outfit and her plunging neckline, clearly thrilled to dress her up. Aradhya stepped closer, brushing her fingers along the fabric, her hip cocked as she leaned in just a bit too much.
“It’s nice, Param, but… I’m thinking something a bit more modern for this date. Something fresh, you know?”, she tilted her head, her voice smooth and playful, her fingers lingering on the sequined choli before letting it drop back to the rack.
Param’s eyes widened, his grin stretching as he nodded eagerly, practically buzzing with excitement at her request. “Modern, got it! I’ve got just the thing—hang on, you’re gonna love this.” He darted to another rack, pulling out a sleek, off-shoulder crop top in midnight blue, paired with a high-slit maxi skirt that shimmered faintly under the store lights. “This is trendy, super chic—perfect for a hot date.”
I watched, my arms still crossed, a skeptical edge sharpening as Param’s enthusiasm grated on me—his eyes kept darting to her bare shoulders, her exposed cleavage, like he was dressing his own fantasy. Aradhya took the outfit from him, holding it up against herself, her anklets jingling as she turned to the mirror nearby. She smoothed the fabric over her curves, her lips curling into that sly smile again.
“This is really cute… I love the vibe.”, she said, her voice bright with approval, then turned slightly to Param, her smile softening into something more playful. “But, you know, this date’s indoors… I’m thinking something one-piece, maybe a little… showy?”, she trailed off, her tone dipping flirtatiously as she ran a finger lightly along the plunging neckline of her anarkali, drawing attention to her cleavage with a sly glance at Param, her anklets chiming with a subtle sway of her hips.
Param’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up like he’d just been handed a golden ticket, clearly eating up her every word. “Indoors, huh? One-piece and showy—I’ve got you. Wait ‘til you see this.” He bolted back to the racks, rummaging with renewed energy, and pulled out a deep green, off-shoulder mini dress—tight, with a plunging V-neck that’d bare half her chest and a hem that’d barely cover her thighs. “This one’s perfect—sexy, modern, total knockout for an indoor thing.”
I stood there, my arms still crossed, skepticism warring with the heat creeping up my spine as Param dangled the dress like a trophy, his gaze flicking to her plunging anarkali neckline again.
Aradhya took the dress from him, holding it up to her frame, her sly smile growing as she pressed it against her dusky skin, letting the V-neck align with her cleavage.
“Oh, this is cute… and it’d definitely show off a little, right, Param?”, she giggled, her eyes locking on his for a beat, her tone teasing as she leaned in just a touch closer, then glanced at me with that knowing smirk, like she was testing the air between us.
My cock stirred instantly, a painful throb stretching against my boxers as I reread his words, the weight of them sinking in. Tashan wasn’t just some random guy—he was Aradhya’s ex from college, a wiry, charming asshole who’d dated her back when she was all shy smiles and textbooks, before I’d even met her. I already knew he’d fucked her once since then - just a few days ago.
I had asked Aradhya about his offer just before the incident with our landlord, that late night last week when we’d lain in bed, the air thick with the afterglow of talking about Banerjee and Harpreet. Her noncommittal answer had left me hanging, her eyes searching mine before she’d turned over, leaving it unresolved.
I typed back fast: “Yeah, we’re both ready. Let’s make a plan.” My finger hovered over send, my stomach twisting tighter. I hit send anyway, my breath shallow, jumping the gun despite the flicker of conflict gnawing at me. It wasn’t just the thrill pushing me now—there was a jagged edge to it, knowing he’d had her before, knowing he was her ex, someone who’d known her body years before I did. Banerjee was a sleazy old pig, Harpreet a brute, but Tashan—he was personal, tied to her past, and that made this feel riskier, heavier. Still, the image of him fucking her in front of me, his lean frame over her curvy one, her moaning his name like she had back then—it lit me up, a sick, pulsing heat I couldn’t resist, even if it left me slightly unsteady, wondering if I was diving too deep this time.
I set the phone down and turned to her, hesitating as she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.
“Morning,” she mumbled, stretching, her bouncy 34C tits shifting under the sheet, her voice still groggy.
I swallowed, steeling myself. “Aradhya… I told Tashan we’re in. For his offer.”
Her brow furrowed, confusion snapping into something sharper as she sat up fast, the sheet slipping to her waist, her gaze piercing. “What? You mean him taking me while you’re there?”, she demanded, her voice rising, tinged with anger and disbelief.
I nodded, my tone steady despite the heat in my chest. “Yeah, we’re ready for this. Banerjee, Harpreet, Tashan—they’ve all given you such incredible highs, Aradhya, and being part of that with you has been amazing. This is the next piece for us—me being right there, watching you light up like you do.”
Her eyes narrowed, her fingers clutching the sheet tight, her breath quickening. “Ari, are you serious? Watching on camera’s one thing—this is in person. How can you be so sure?” Her voice cracked, skepticism cutting through, her upset clear as she leaned back, arms crossing over her chest.
I slid closer, my hand finding hers, holding it gently. “I’m sure because we’ve built this together—you’ve told me how Mr. Banerjee’s intensity shook you, how Harpreet’s roughness drove you wild, how Tashan knew just what you liked. I’ve seen it, heard it. But this time I want to be there for real, Aradhya, watching you feel that pleasure right in front of me.” I kept my voice soft, letting her see it wasn’t just about me—it was about her, about us sharing what got her off.
She scowled, chewing her lip, her upset spilling out. “This isn’t some video you can shut off! What if it fucks us up? I love you—I don’t want to lose you over this!” Her voice trembled, raw with fear and frustration, her eyes searching mine—Banerjee’s filth, Harpreet’s power, Tashan’s past with her all flashing behind her glare.
I squeezed her hand, my tone calm but firm. “It won’t mess us up—I won’t let it. We’ve shared how good they’ve made you feel. I just want to see it live, sweetheart, see you lose yourself like that. We’ll handle it together, like always—you’re not losing me.”
She stared at me, her anger softening into a conflicted frown, her fingers twitching in mine. “You’re insane!”, she muttered, then paused, her voice dropping. “Fine… I’ll admit it—telling you how they’ve made me feel, knowing you’ve watched… it turns me on too. A lot. But in person? I’m scared, Arijit. What’s this going to do to us later? I don’t know if I can handle it shifting things.” Her confession warmed me—her arousal echoing mine—but her skepticism lingered, heavy with worry about our future.
I leaned in, my grip reassuring. “It won’t shift what we’ve got. We’ve loved how they’ve pleasured you—this is just closer, more real. I want to see you feel that good, Aradhya, and I'll be strong through it. If it’s too much, we stop—together.”
She studied me, her eyes still wary but easing, her fingers lacing with mine. “Okay… but you better be damn sure about this!”, she said at last, her tone reluctant but softening, a shaky nod following. “I’ll do it—for you, for us—but if it feels off, even for a second, we’re both out. Deal?” I nodded back, relief and a quiet thrill building, my cock stiffening at the thought of Tashan making her moan in front of me, her pleasure the heart of it all.
“Deal!”, I exclaimed, my voice steady as I pulled her into a soft, careful kiss, sealing this step we’d take together, her caution a thread I’d weave into our shared ride.
After our shaky kiss, my wife slipped out of bed to shower, leaving me alone with the rumpled sheets and my buzzing thoughts. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my fingers hovering over the screen, a jittery mix of anticipation and nerves sparking through me. My chest tightened as I started typing, thumbs fumbling slightly, the weight of what my wife and I had just agreed to sinking in. I laid out what we’d talked about — how we were stepping into this together, how I wanted to see her feel that rush in person—my breath shallow as I pictured Tashan reading it, smirking that cocky smirk of his.
I suggested a date—Saturday night, three days away—and a time, 8 p.m., my fingers trembling as I hit send, locking us into this. The wait for his reply stretched, my leg bouncing against the mattress, anticipation swelling like a tide I couldn’t hold back, laced with a jittery edge that made my palms sweat. When the phone buzzed back, confirming it, my heart lurched—half exhilaration, half dread—Saturday was coming, and I’d be there, watching her glow, nerves and all.
***
The next day, Friday, I sat at my office desk, the hum of keyboards and muted chatter fading as my mind drifted to tomorrow. I pulled out my phone and texted Aradhya: “Hey, get ready after I’m back—we’ll go shopping for tomorrow night before the date.” Her reply came quick, “Okay, sounds good.”
I smiled despite the nervous flutter in my chest, already imagining her prepping for her ex. The workday dragged, but when I finally stepped into our apartment that evening, the sight of her stopped me cold. My sweet, sexy wife, stood by the mirror, brushing on light mascara, her dusky skin glowing under a touch of blush and a slick of pink gloss. She wore a sleeveless, backless anarkali top—deep red, sheer at the sides, clinging tight to her modest mammaries, the thin fabric letting her nipples hint through without a blouse beneath. The plunging neckline dipped low, framing her cleavage, while the flared skirt stopped mid-thigh, slit high on one side to flash her smooth, toned leg with every step—a sexy twist on tradition that left little to the imagination. No churidar, just the top and a pair of gold anklets tinkling faintly, her confidence radiating. She used to step out in modest salwar suits or long kurtas, always covered, shy about drawing eyes—now she looked like she craved them, and I was floored.
“You look… amazing!”, I managed, my voice catching, impressed and stunned by this bold new Aradhya, her transformation hitting me hard after Harpreet, Banerjee, and Tashan had peeled away her old shell.
She caught my stare in the mirror, smirking. “Thought I’d switch it up,” she said, tossing her hair, that newfound edge in her tone making my pulse skip. We grabbed our metro cards and headed out, the local train packed with evening commuters. As we stood holding the rail, heads turned—guys in suits, college kids, even a grizzled old man—all ogling her bare back, the curve of her hips, the flash of thigh through the slit as the train rocked. She noticed, her eyes flicking over the crowd, and then—fuck—she smirked at a tall guy in a hoodie across from us, a quick, flirty curl of her lips right in front of me. My throat tightened, a jolt of shock and heat hitting me — her boldness was unreal now.
At the mall, we headed to an upscale boutique, the kind with sleek racks and overpriced tags. A young sales assistant — 19 or 20, lanky with a mop of dark hair — couldn’t peel his eyes off her as we walked in, his gaze lingering on her exposed skin. She smiled at him, a small, playful curve of her lips, and that emboldened him to stride over.
“Can I help you find something?”, he asked, his voice eager, almost tripping over itself.
I cleared my throat, a reflex kicking in. “Uh, is there a lady available? We’re here for her outfit.”, I said, pointing at my wife.
But the kid grinned, unfazed. “I’ve got this, sir—trust me, I know my stuff.”
Aradhya shrugged, her eyes glinting with amusement. “He’s fine, Ari—I don’t mind.”, she said, her tone light but firm, another flash of that boldness I was still wrapping my head around.
The young sales assistant’s eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his boyish face as he realized he’d scored the chance to help this sweet, sultry married woman who radiated a vibe he couldn’t resist. I stood back, arms crossed, a skeptical knot tightening in my chest—jealousy prickling as I watched him practically bounce on his heels, too eager for my liking. But Aradhya’s calm confidence steadied me; she knew what she was doing, and I trusted her, even if my gut churned watching this young man eye her like a prize.
He stepped closer, brushing a hand through his dark mop of hair. “By the way, myself Param. What’re you looking for today, ma'am?”
Aradhya turned to him, her lips curling into a sly smile as she adjusted her anarkali top, the sheer fabric shifting to tease more of her dusky skin. “Oh, just something… eye-catching. For a date tomorrow night.”, she paused, then shot me a quick wink, her eyes glinting with mischief.
I swallowed, my throat dry, caught off guard by that wink—playful, knowing, like she was pulling me into her game. Param didn’t notice, too busy nodding enthusiastically as he darted toward a rack of shimmering outfits, pulling out a sleek lehenga with a cropped, sequined choli.
Param: This one’s killer—shows off the right curves, perfect for a night out. What do you think?
He held it up, his gaze flicking between the outfit and her plunging neckline, clearly thrilled to dress her up. Aradhya stepped closer, brushing her fingers along the fabric, her hip cocked as she leaned in just a bit too much.
“It’s nice, Param, but… I’m thinking something a bit more modern for this date. Something fresh, you know?”, she tilted her head, her voice smooth and playful, her fingers lingering on the sequined choli before letting it drop back to the rack.
Param’s eyes widened, his grin stretching as he nodded eagerly, practically buzzing with excitement at her request. “Modern, got it! I’ve got just the thing—hang on, you’re gonna love this.” He darted to another rack, pulling out a sleek, off-shoulder crop top in midnight blue, paired with a high-slit maxi skirt that shimmered faintly under the store lights. “This is trendy, super chic—perfect for a hot date.”
I watched, my arms still crossed, a skeptical edge sharpening as Param’s enthusiasm grated on me—his eyes kept darting to her bare shoulders, her exposed cleavage, like he was dressing his own fantasy. Aradhya took the outfit from him, holding it up against herself, her anklets jingling as she turned to the mirror nearby. She smoothed the fabric over her curves, her lips curling into that sly smile again.
“This is really cute… I love the vibe.”, she said, her voice bright with approval, then turned slightly to Param, her smile softening into something more playful. “But, you know, this date’s indoors… I’m thinking something one-piece, maybe a little… showy?”, she trailed off, her tone dipping flirtatiously as she ran a finger lightly along the plunging neckline of her anarkali, drawing attention to her cleavage with a sly glance at Param, her anklets chiming with a subtle sway of her hips.
Param’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up like he’d just been handed a golden ticket, clearly eating up her every word. “Indoors, huh? One-piece and showy—I’ve got you. Wait ‘til you see this.” He bolted back to the racks, rummaging with renewed energy, and pulled out a deep green, off-shoulder mini dress—tight, with a plunging V-neck that’d bare half her chest and a hem that’d barely cover her thighs. “This one’s perfect—sexy, modern, total knockout for an indoor thing.”
I stood there, my arms still crossed, skepticism warring with the heat creeping up my spine as Param dangled the dress like a trophy, his gaze flicking to her plunging anarkali neckline again.
Aradhya took the dress from him, holding it up to her frame, her sly smile growing as she pressed it against her dusky skin, letting the V-neck align with her cleavage.
“Oh, this is cute… and it’d definitely show off a little, right, Param?”, she giggled, her eyes locking on his for a beat, her tone teasing as she leaned in just a touch closer, then glanced at me with that knowing smirk, like she was testing the air between us.
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