Adultery Contractual Sex - Munai's journey

[DeviKamasutra]

Chapter 1: 6 months later...

“Fuck, Bhabhi, look at you—such a greedy little whore. Taking me so deep,” Mr. Singh’s gravelly voice cut through the heavy air of the living room, his thick accent laced with both mockery and adoration. He leaned back slightly, his dark eyes raking over her naked, trembling form as her legs remained pinned high over his shoulders. Her chubby body jiggled with every thrust, her heavy boobs bouncing obscenely, the beauty spot above her left nipple catching the dim light like a mark of sin.

“You love this, don’t you? Being used like this, with your husband watching?)” he sneered, his tone a cruel mix of taunt and admiration. His thrusts were deliberate, each one driving deeper into her shaven pussy, her wetness coating his thick cock with every movement. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the room, mingling with Munai’s shaky moans and the rhythmic creak of the couch. “Look at you, Bhabhi, taking it like the fat little slut you are. You’re made for this.”

Munai whimpered, her breath hitching as her hips lifted slightly to meet his thrusts. Her full, soft yet trunk-like thighs trembled under the strain of being held open so wide, her pliant body submitting completely to his dominance. Her heavy boobs swayed rhythmically, her nipples hard and begging for attention, the lighter shade of her large areolas glistening with sweat. “Oh God… oh please…” she gasped, her voice breaking as pleasure coiled tightly in her core.

Mr. Singh chuckled darkly, his hand leaving her thigh to grab a handful of her boob, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. “These tits… fucking perfect,” he muttered, his fingers pinching her nipple hard enough to make her cry out. “You were made for this, Bhabhi. Born to be a slut. Tell me, how does it feel to have your husband watch you get fucked like the whore you are?”

Munai’s cheeks flushed deeper as she glanced toward Dipankar, who stood in the corner with the camera trembling in his hands. His face was a mask of shame and arousal, his eyes glued to her naked, debauched form. She felt a pang of guilt but also an undeniable thrill at the power she held over both men. “I… I can’t help it…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies colliding.

“Of course you can’t,” Mr. Singh growled, leaning down to suckle at her breast, his tongue swirling around her nipple in a way that made her moan louder. “You’re just a fat, greedy whore who can’t get enough of my cock. Admit it.” His thrusts grew harder, deeper, each one pushing her closer to the edge as her pussy clenched around him desperately.

Munai’s body arched off the couch as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy, her mind consumed by the sensations coursing through her. “Yes… yes, I’m a whore…” she gasped, her voice trembling with both shame and desire. “Fuck me… Fuck me like a whore…”

Mr. Singh smirked darkly, his grip tightening on her thighs as he drove into her with relentless force. “That’s right, Bhabhi. You’re mine now.”

Munai whimpered, her breath uneven as her legs were pinned high over his broad, hairy shoulders. Her pale, round face was flushed, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead despite the chilly winter breeze sneaking in through the open door. The sheer curtains danced wildly, threatening to expose them to the world beyond. Her chubby body jiggled with every thrust, her heavy breasts bouncing, the beauty spot above her left nipple catching the dim light.

“Even after several months, your pussy grips my thick cock tightly,” Mr. Singh grunted, his dark, hairy chest heaving as he slammed into her shaven pussy, her wetness coating his thick cock with every movement. Her pussy lips, soft and pink, stretched around him, glistening with their combined arousal.

Dipankar stood in the corner, his t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame, his shorts tented as he recorded the scene with trembling hands. His face was a mix of shame and arousal, his eyes glued to his wife’s naked form being ravaged by his colleague. He didn’t dare touch himself, though every fiber of his being screamed for release.

“Ahhh… oh God…” Munai moaned, her voice shaky as she gripped the edge of the couch beneath her. Her full, soft hips lifted slightly, meeting his thrusts with a needy urgency. Her heavy boobs swayed rhythmically, her nipples standing taut, the lighter shade of her large areolas begging for attention.

Mr. Singh chuckled darkly, slowing his pace just enough to torment her. “Look how eager are your fucking tits,” he said almost reverently, letting one hand leave her thigh to grab a handful of her breast. His rough fingers kneaded the soft flesh, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her gasp. “So soft. So juicy. You must love seducing men by your slutty tits right?"

“Please… don’t stop…” she begged, her voice trembling as she arched her back, offering herself to him completely. Her body was pliant under his control, her thighs trembling from the strain of being held open so wide. The cool breeze brushed against her overheated skin, sending shivers through her as she teetered on the edge of exposure.

“Such a fat, juicy cunt,” Mr. Singh sneered, his thrusts growing harder, deeper. “Your married pussy is soaking wet for me. Bet Dipankar hasn’t made you this wet in years, has he?” His words were cruel but laced with something almost possessive, as if he was claiming her in ways her husband never could.

Munai’s breath hitched as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, her toes curling as pleasure rippled through her. Her pussy clenched around him, her inner walls fluttering as she neared the edge. “Oh… oh fuck… I’m close…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies slapping together.

“You better not come without my permission,” Mr. Singh growled, his voice low and commanding, cutting through the thick air of the room. His grip tightened on her soft thighs, fingers digging into her pale flesh as he held her legs open, pinned high over his shoulders. He leaned down, his dark, hairy chest brushing against her trembling body, and took her nipple and the complete areolae into his mouth, sucking hard. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, each flick sending jolts of electricity straight to her core. Munai gasped, arching her back as pleasure surged through her, her heavy boobs harmonizing with the movement.

“Such a needy slut,” he muttered against her boobs, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers as he pinched her other nipple between his rough fingers, twisting it just enough to make her cry out. “Look at you, squirming like a desperate whore.” His voice was laced with both cruelty and admiration, his gaze dark with dominance. “You can’t even control yourself, can you? You’re just a fat, greedy bitch who craves my cock.”

Munai whimpered, her body trembling under his relentless assault. Her pussy clenched around him, her wetness soaking his thick shaft as he continued to fuck her with slow, deliberate strokes. She felt herself teetering on the edge, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in her belly. “I… I can’t help it…” she whispered, her voice shaking with desperation.

“Yes, you can,” Mr. Singh snapped, slapping her thigh sharply. The sting made her yelp, her body jerking in surprise. “You don’t come until I fucking say so. Do you understand me, Bhabhi?” His voice was harsh, but there was a glint of something almost possessive in his eyes, as if he relished having this control over her.

She nodded frantically, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to hold back the rising tide of pleasure. Her pussy throbbed with need, her clit swollen and aching for release, but she forced herself to focus on his words, on his demands. “Y-yes… I… I’ll try…”

Mr. smirked darkly, clearly enjoying the way she fought to obey him. “Good girl,” he purred, his voice dripping with mock praise. He leaned down again, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “PBut don’t think I’m going to go easy on you. You’re mine now, Munai. And I’m going to take you apart piece by piece.”

With that, he pulled out of her abruptly, leaving her pussy clenching around empty air. Munai cried out, her body writhing in frustration as he positioned himself back at her entrance and plunged into her again with a single, brutal thrust. Her head fell back against the couch as she gave herself over to him completely, her mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

From the corner, Dipankar’s hands trembled as he continued to record, his face a mask of shame and arousal. “I… I can’t hold it…” Munai gasped, her hips bucking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure began to crash over her. Her pussy pulsed around his cock, her body betraying her even as she tried to hold back.

“Fuck you Bhabhi!” Mr. Singh hissed, pulling out abruptly and slapping her pussy hard with his palm. The sharp sting made her cry out, her body jerking in surprise. “Not until I say so!”

She nodded frantically, tears welling up in her eyes as she struggled to regain control. Her pussy throbbed with need, her clit swollen and aching for attention. “Yes… yes, I’m sorry…”

Mr. Singh smirked, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction as he positioned himself at her entrance again. He slid back inside slowly, relishing the way her tight walls gripped him once more. “Good,” he purred, his voice dripping with mock praise. “Dada, come here and take a close-up shot of her pussy while I fill her up.” With short steps, Dipankar moved towards them and kneeled to set the camera near his wife's violated pussy. He's gulping down his shame and compulsion.

As he began to thrust once more, Munai couldn’t help but glance over at Dipankar, her husband’s face a mask of conflicted emotions. His hands trembled as he held the camera, his breathing labored as he watched his wife being fucked raw by another man. She felt a pang of guilt but also an undeniable thrill at the power she held over both of them.

Mr. Singh noticed her gaze and chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry about him,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “He knows his place. Just like you know yours.”

With that, he picked up the pace again, his hips slamming into hers with a force that made the entire couch creak. Munai’s mind went blank as pleasure consumed her, her body surrendering completely to the sensations coursing through her...

“You love this fat cock, don’t you?” Mr. Singh taunted, his voice hoarse with exertion. “Say it.”

“I… I love it…” Munai moaned, her voice breaking as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I love your cock…”

“Louder!” he demanded, his thrusts becoming even more erratic.

“I love your cock!” she cried out, her voice echoing through the room as her orgasm finally erupted, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her as her body convulsed in ecstasy.

“Oh, fuck, Bhabhi!” Mr. Singh growled, his voice thick with lust as he felt her pussy clamping down on him like a vice, her walls fluttering and squeezing his cock with desperate need. His thrusts became erratic, his rhythm breaking as the pleasure building inside him reached its peak. He gripped her hips tightly, the softness of her flesh yielding under his fingers, and buried himself deep inside her with one final, punishing thrust. “Take it, you fat little whore. Take every drop.”

Munai’s breath hitched as she felt him pulsing inside her, his thick cock jerking as he unleashed his release. She arched her back, her heavy breasts pressing against his chest as her body trembled under the force of her own orgasm. His hot seed flooded her tight channel, filling her in ways that made her toes curl and her mind go blank. “Oh God… oh yes…” she moaned, her voice trembling with ecstasy, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him.

Mr. Singh groaned loudly, his body shuddering as he emptied himself into her, his cock twitching with each wave of his release. He leaned down, his hot breath brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I love you my slut. Keep taking my hot cum, all of it.” His voice was low and possessive, the words sending a shiver down her spine even as her body continued to tremble in the aftermath of her climax.

From the corner, Dipankar’s hands shook violently as he kept the camera focused on them, his breathing labored and uneven. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his wife being claimed so completely by another man, her pliant body writhing in pleasure as she took everything Mr. Singh gave her. The shame and arousal warred within him, his own desire almost unbearable as he watched Munai’s face contort in ecstasy.

Mr. Singh didn’t pull out immediately, letting himself savor the way her pussy still clenched around him, milking the last drops of his cum from his spent cock. He ran a hand over her sweaty skin, his fingers trailing along the soft curve of her belly before gripping her thigh possessively. “You’re mine now, Munai,” he said, his voice firm and final. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Munai could only nod weakly, her body still trembling as she lay beneath him, completely spent. Her mind was a haze of pleasure and exhaustion, her thoughts scattered as she tried to catch her breath. The cool winter breeze swept through the room again, making her shiver, but she didn’t care. Right now, all she could focus on was the feeling of him inside her, marking her, owning her. And for the first time, she realized how much she craved it.

From the corner, Dipankar couldn’t look away as he was fighting his own guilt of being horny seeing another man's cum dripping out of his wife's pussy.

KNOCK! KNOCK! The sudden knock at the door jolted all three of them like a crack of thunder, as the curtains started to dance again with the slow breeze revealing the presence of a silhouette.