Adultery Fathima - wife to slutty broker (With Pics)

[Cuckoldindian]

Update 11:
Her eyes focused, and she saw Lakshmi's face hovering over hers, her dark eyes filled with a hunger that Fathima had never seen before. The shock of the moment froze her for a second, her mind racing to make sense of what was happening. Then, as the reality of the situation crashed into her consciousness, she pushed Lakshmi away with a strength she didn't know she had.

 
Lakshmi stumbled back, a look of surprise and hurt crossing her face, her naked body glowing in the moonlight that spilled into the room. Her large, shaggy-haired pussy was exposed, the sight of it sending a bolt of both fear and arousal through Fathima. She had never seen another woman's nakedness up close, let alone been the object of such desire.
 
"What time is it?" Fathima croaked, her voice thick with sleep and the weight of what she had just done. She reached over to the bedside table, her hand shaking as she grabbed her phone, the screen illuminating the dark room. It was 3:45 AM, and the quiet of the night was broken only by the distant sound of a car's engine and the hammering of her own heart.
 
"Aslam said you were tired from work," Lakshmi murmured, her voice a seductive purr. She stepped closer, the shadows playing across her bare skin, making her seem almost predatory. "So, I came to check on you."
 
Fathima sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. "Why are you naked?" she demanded, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. Lakshmi's gaze was intense, her eyes raking over Fathima's body with an open hunger that made Fathima feel exposed and vulnerable.
 
"I saw you," Lakshmi said, her voice low and throaty, "sleeping naked. I thought we could continue where we left off in the kitchen yesterday." The memory of Lakshmi's hand on her breast, the heat of her mouth on her skin, rushed back to Fathima in a wave of sensation. She felt a flush of arousal that she quickly tried to suppress.
 
Without giving herself a chance to think, Fathima threw the bedsheet over her head and launched herself at Lakshmi, their bodies colliding with a force that sent them both stumbling backward. The kiss was desperate and hungry, their mouths devouring each other as if they were starving. Lakshmi's hands found Fathima's waist, pulling her closer, her nails digging into the soft flesh.


 
Fathima's own hands roamed, finding the heat between Lakshmi's legs, the wetness of her pussy surprising her. Lakshmi gasped into her mouth as Fathima's fingers explored, tentative at first, then more assured. Her thumb found the swollen nub of Lakshmi's clit, and she began to rub it in tight, slow circles, feeling the other woman's hips jerk against her hand. The scent of sex filled the room, a heady aphrodisiac that seemed to cloud her senses.
 
Fathima felt Lakshmi's hand slide down her own body, her own wetness mirroring the slickness she found. The sensation of Lakshmi's long, skilled fingers sliding into her was almost too much, a whirlwind of sensation that she had never felt before. Their breaths mingled as Lakshmi began to move in a rhythm that matched Fathima's own, their bodies moving in a silent dance of desire.
 
And then, Lakshmi was guiding Fathima's head downward, her hands tangling in Fathima's hair as she urged her closer. Fathima's eyes widened in surprise, but the scent of Lakshmi's arousal was intoxicating, and she found herself eager to taste the forbidden fruit that lay before her. Lakshmi's legs parted further, and Fathima's gaze fell upon the dark, unshaved mound of hair that shielded her most intimate parts.
 
With a gentle push from Lakshmi's hand, Fathima's mouth found the soft, warm flesh of her pussy, the coarse hairs tickling her nose as she took in the heady aroma of female desire. Her tongue darted out tentatively, tracing the delicate folds, learning the taste of another woman's passion. Lakshmi's body responded with a shiver, her hips rolling in a silent plea for more.


 
Fathima licked along the length of Lakshmi's slit, the sweetness of her arousal coating her tongue. She felt a thrill of excitement as she explored this new terrain, her mind racing with the thought of what Aslam would think if he knew what she was doing. Yet, she couldn't deny the allure of the moment, the raw, unbridled need that Lakshmi's body emitted.
 
"Rahman," Lakshmi moaned, her voice thick with desire, "he called out your name while he fucked me this morning." The words were like a hot knife through butter, slicing through Fathima's consciousness and igniting a maelstrom of emotions. Jealousy, anger, and a twisted sense of arousal coiled within her as she paused, her tongue lingering at Lakshmi's entrance.
 
Fathima's eyes snapped up, meeting Lakshmi's gaze. The other woman's eyes were hooded with pleasure, a smug smile playing on her lips. The revelation was a deliberate provocation, a declaration of victory in the silent war they had been waging over the men in their lives. It was a stark reminder of Lakshmi's betrayal, the affair that had shaken Fathima's world to its very core.
 
But as Lakshmi's fingers guided her down, Fathima felt something else, something primal and all-consuming. It was a hunger she had never acknowledged before, a yearning to claim back what she had lost, to conquer the woman who had stolen from her. She allowed Lakshmi to push her down onto her back, their bodies tangling together in a tapestry of limbs and desire.


 
The moment Lakshmi's mouth found her own center, Fathima's resolve shattered. The sensation was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that she had never known. Lakshmi's tongue danced over her clit, teasing and taunting, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Fathima's hips bucked, a guttural moan escaping her lips as she gave herself over to the feeling. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of desire that she had been holding back for years.
 
Her eyes squeezed shut, she felt Lakshmi's hands on her breasts, kneading and pinching the hardened nipples, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through her body. The room spun, and she could feel the pressure building, her orgasm approaching like a freight train. It was a strange mix of anger, betrayal, and lust that fueled her climax, a maelstrom of emotion that culminated in a scream that was muffled by Lakshmi's hand over her mouth.
 
Their bodies writhed together, lost in the tumult of passion and anger. Lakshmi's tongue worked her clit with a fierce determination, and Fathima felt her legs begin to shake. She had never been brought to the edge so quickly, but the intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and she couldn't hold back any longer.


 
Her orgasm crashed over her, a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. She bucked and moaned into Lakshmi's hand, her eyes squeezed shut as she rode the peak of her climax. It was a strange mix of emotions, feeling so alive and powerful in the throes of passion with a woman she had once called a friend, yet now felt like a rival in every sense of the word.
 
As the tremors subsided, Lakshmi removed her hand from Fathima's mouth, her own chest heaving with the effort of bringing her to such heights. The two of them lay there, naked and exposed, their bodies entwined in a mess of sheets and desire. The room was quiet except for their ragged breaths, the only evidence of the storm that had just passed.
 
Fathima opened her eyes, looking into Lakshmi's face, the face that had brought her to such a peak of pleasure she had never known. "This was the first time I've been with a woman," she whispered, the words sounding foreign on her lips. The confession hung in the air, a stark contrast to the silent understanding that had existed between them moments before.
 
Lakshmi's eyes searched hers, the smugness replaced with a flicker of something that might have been respect. "I know," she murmured, her voice a soft purr in the quiet room. "I could tell by the way you tasted me, by the way your body responded to mine. It was...beautiful."
 
Her hand trailed down Fathima's neck, her thumb circling Fathima's full lips, tracing the outline of her mouth. "So, can we continue like this?" she asked, her voice low and seductive. Fathima felt the question resonate through her, a siren's call that she didn't know if she had the strength to resist. The weight of her own infidelity lay heavy on her chest, a dark secret that she had never intended to share.
 
Fathima took a deep breath, feeling the tension coil in her stomach. "Sure," she whispered finally, "but no one should know." It was a feeble attempt to maintain control, a last-ditch effort to keep the shambles of her life from crumbling completely. Lakshmi's smile grew, her eyes gleaming with a predatory light that sent a shiver down Fathima's spine.
 
The two women lay there for a moment, the silence heavy with unspoken truths and newfound desires. Lakshmi leaned in, her breath warm against Fathima's neck as she spoke, "Why did Rahman call out your name?" The question was a challenge, a demand for Fathima to admit her own transgressions. Fathima felt a rush of anger, the heat of it mixing with the lingering passion.
 
"What do you mean?" she responded, her voice a mix of confusion and defensiveness. Lakshmi's eyes narrowed, and she moved her head to rest on Fathima's heaving chest, her cheek pressed against the soft mound of a breast. "This morning, when he was fucking me," she whispered, her voice a mix of amusement and accusation, "he said your name. What did you do to him?"
 
Fathima couldn't help but laugh, the sound a little too high-pitched, a little too forced. She trailed her fingers through Lakshmi's hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingers like silk. "Poor boy," she said, her voice a mocking purr, "When I came home late last night, I was wearing a sexy red party dress, and he was in the kitchen in his undies."
 
Lakshmi's eyes narrowed, and she pulled away slightly, her hand still resting on Fathima's stomach. "Why were you wearing that dress?" she asked again, her tone more insistent this time. "I've never seen you in anything like that. It's...not you."
 
Fathima took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "It's work, Lakshmi," she said, her voice steady despite the tremble in her chest. "Elite Properties is a cutthroat business, and sometimes, you have to play the game to win. Dressing like that...it's just part of the job. It helps me sell houses. Clients are more inclined to buy when they're...distracted by the salesperson."
 
Lakshmi's gaze remained sharp, unconvinced. "But did you fuck anyone else other than your husband?" she pressed, her voice a seductive challenge that seemed to echo through the room. Fathima felt her heart race, her mind racing with the memory of Rahul's hands on her body, the heat of his kiss, and the way he had filled her so completely.
 
Taking a deep breath, she met Lakshmi's eyes, the words leaving her mouth in a rush. "Yes," she admitted, the confession leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. "I fucked my colleague, Rahul, last night in a hotel bathroom." The admission hung in the air like a cloud of smoke, thick and suffocating. Lakshmi's eyes widened for a brief second before a slow smile spread across her face, a smile that was equal parts shock and intrigue.
 
"This stays between us, Lakshmi," Fathima whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "You can't tell anyone, especially not Aslam or Rahman. This is my secret, my mistake." Lakshmi nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. "I understand," she said, her voice low and soothing, almost as if she were comforting a scared child. "We all have our secrets, Fathima. It's what makes us human."
 
Fathima felt a sudden urge to know Lakshmi's secrets, to understand what had led her down this path of deceit and betrayal. "How did you start fucking Rahman?" she asked, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them. Lakshmi's expression grew thoughtful, her eyes drifting to the side as she remembered.
 
"It was when I started working here," Lakshmi began, her voice distant. "Your father-in-law, Fazul, used to come home early sometimes. He saw me, lonely and desperate for attention. He knew I was unhappy and took advantage of it. He was kind to me, charming, and before I knew it, we were having an affair. It was only natural for Rahman to stumble upon us one day."
 
Fathima's eyes grew wide with disbelief. "My father-in-law? I thought he was a good man," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. The image of the kind, gentle Fazul she knew was shattered by Lakshmi's revelation, leaving her feeling dizzy with confusion and anger. "How could he do that?"
 
Lakshmi's smile grew into a wicked grin, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Oh, Fathima," she said, her voice dripping with mock pity, "you're so naive. He's not the man you think he is." Her hand trailed down Fathima's stomach, her fingertips playing with the soft curls of hair between her legs. "But he does know how to please a woman," she added, her voice dropping to a seductive murmur.
 
Fathima felt a flash of anger, but it was quickly doused by the heat of Lakshmi's words. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tight with emotion. Lakshmi's eyes met hers, and she leaned in close, her breath hot against Fathima's ear. "Your father-in-law," she whispered, "is the best lover I've ever had. He's so rough, so demanding. He makes me scream with pleasure, things your sweet, your gentle Aslam could never do."
 
The revelation was like a slap in the face, a brutal wake-up call to the harsh reality of the world she had been living in. Her mind reeled with images of Lakshmi and Fazul entwined in passion, the very man she had once respected as a second father now a symbol of betrayal. The room seemed to spin, and Fathima felt as if she were falling into an abyss of deceit and lust.
 
With a sudden urgency, Lakshmi pulled away from her and stood up, her naked body a stark contrast to the prudish attire Fathima had always known her to wear. She reached for her discarded clothes, her movements swift and purposeful. "We should get dressed," Lakshmi murmured, her voice a soft caress in the quiet room. "We can't have anyone suspecting."
 
Fathima watched her, the events of the night playing out in her mind like a sordid movie reel. As Lakshmi wrapped herself in the familiar embrace of her saree, Fathima couldn't help but feel a pang of something akin to jealousy. The fabric whispered around Lakshmi's curves, hinting at the secrets she held so close. With each fold and tuck, Lakshmi seemed to regain a piece of herself, the predator donning the guise of a housewife once again.
 
Her own phone, discarded on the floor, beckoned with a silent scream of missed calls and unread messages. Her heart racing, Fathima reached for it, the cold screen a stark contrast to the warmth of Lakshmi's skin that still lingered on her fingers. Four from Rahul, her mind screamed, her chest tightening. And seven from Dsouza, her boss. The numbers taunted her, a reminder of the tangled web she'd spun at work and now at home.
 
With trembling hands, she called Dsouza back. His gruff voice answered almost immediately. "Fathima," he barked, "Where the hell are you? The investor's meeting is in an hour, and you're nowhere to be found." The urgency in his tone was palpable, a stark contrast to the languid strokes of Lakshmi's fingers across her skin moments ago.
 
"I'm sorry," she managed, her voice a hoarse whisper, "I had... an emergency." The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, a stark reminder of the tangled web she'd woven around her personal and professional life. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
 
Dsouza's response was swift and uncompromising. "You have one hour, Fathima. If you're not in my office with an explanation that satisfies me, don't bother coming back to work." The line went dead, leaving her staring at the phone in her trembling hand. The gravity of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. She had crossed a line, and the consequences were already barreling towards her.