Adultery Nivetha (Nivi) - Power and Submissions of working wife (03 Oct 2025 - Chapter 100)
#33
Chapter 24: The Babydoll Tease


The room hung in hazy silence after Raghavan disappeared into the adjoining space, leaving Nivi on the couch, her heart hammering like a drum in her chest. 

The whiskey's warmth still burned in her veins, mingling with the smoke's lingering haze, but it was nothing compared to the fire building between her thighs. Her pussy throbbed relentlessly, the soaked leggings clinging uncomfortably to her slick folds, the fabric chafing with every subtle shift of her ass on the cushion. Fuck, I'm a mess, she thought, mind voices racing wicked and desperate. 

Wet from his touches, his words, that filthy memory of him tasting my trace—and now this waiting? He's drawing it out, making me ache, and god, it's working. Her clit pulsed, begging for friction, but she held back, revelations stirring: He's testing my boldness; if I push now, tease him right, he'll snap—fuck me like I've been craving all night.

Footsteps echoed softly from the room, and Raghavan emerged, a sleek black box in his hands, tied with a subtle ribbon. His eyes locked on her immediately, tracing her curves—the way her kurti hugged her breasts, their fullness rising with her quickened breaths, her hips curved invitingly on the couch. From his view, she was a vision of restrained fire: lips parted from the smoke, cheeks flushed from the whiskey, thighs pressed together hiding her arousal, but the subtle squirm of her ass betrayed it. 

She's ready to break, he thought silently, cock stirring at the sight, her innocence from years ago now evolved into this tempting woman, curves begging to be unveiled.

He handed her the box, his fingers brushing hers—electric, lingering a second too long, sending a jolt straight to her pussy. "For you," he said, voice low, rough, eyes dark with implication. "Something I picked up... thinking of you."

Nivi's hands trembled slightly as she untied the ribbon, the box opening to reveal folds of black satin—a babydoll nightgown, ultimate in its tease, the material sheer and luxurious, designed to skim curves rather than cover them. The top was low-cut, meant to frame breasts with lace edges, the hem short, flaring just enough to hint at hips and ass without hiding anything. 

Fuck, this is lingerie, she thought, pussy clenching hard, a fresh gush of wetness soaking her already drenched leggings. It's for fucking, for teasing until he can't hold back. But doubt crept in, shyness mixing with jealousy—wicked thoughts turning sharp: Is this for another woman? Some lover he has? He bought it passing by a shop, but what if...

She looked up, voice soft but edged with question, her eyes searching his. 

"This... it's beautiful, but... for which woman did you buy this?" Her tone implied suspicion, revelations deepening: If there's someone else, this ends now—but god, I hope it's me, my body in this, driving him wild.

Raghavan's eyes softened, a chuckle low in his throat as he sat closer, his thigh brushing hers sensually. 

"No other woman, Nivi," he clarified, voice steady, honest, his hand grazing her knee lightly—gentle but possessive. "I saw it in a luxurious lingerie shop window while passing by. Your shape, your figure—it flashed in my mind instantly. 

Those curves you've bloomed into... I couldn't resist. But I didn't know how you'd take it—didn't want to push too soon." His gaze traced her breasts, her hips, imagining her in it, cock hardening at the thought. 

She's evolved—shy girl to this fire—and this gown's for her fire alone.

Relief washed over her, mixed with heat, her pussy throbbing harder. It's for me—my tits, my ass, she thought, mind voices naughty and bold: He'll see me in this, lose control, fuck me furious. 

She stood silently, box in hand, locking eyes with him—a wicked spark in her gaze implying her plan. 

Tease the hell out of him, make him snap, take us to the next level. Without a word, she headed to the room he'd come from—a guest bedroom, she assumed—locking the door behind her with a soft click.

Inside, the space was elegant—king bed with silk sheets, dim lamps casting golden light, a private bath adjoining. Her heart raced, pussy aching as she stripped, peeling off the kurti, her breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and begging. 

The leggings came next, soaked and sticky, the fabric clinging to her slick folds, her arousal glistening on her thighs. Fuck, I'm drenched—smelly from hours of wetness, she thought, revelations hitting: Can't present like this; need to be fresh, irresistible, so he devours me clean. She decided—no inners; the babydoll alone, nothing underneath, her pussy bare, ass exposed under the short hem.

She stepped into the bath, turning on the shower, hot water cascading over her curves—breasts glistening, water tracing her nipples, down her flat stomach to her pussy, washing away the day's scent, leaving her fresh, scented with the villa's soap—jasmine and musk. Fuck, clean for him, ready for his tongue, she thought, fingers brushing her clit under the stream, a tease but not release. 

Drying off, skin glowing, she rummaged her handbag for makeup—slutty, teasing: red lipstick bolder, eyes smoky with liner and shadow, cheeks flushed with blush, transforming her pretty face into a seductive mask. Lips full, eyes dark and inviting, she thought, mind voices wicked: He'll see a vixen, not the office girl—tits and ass begging, pussy dripping under satin.

Slipping into the babydoll, the black satin glided over her skin like a lover's touch—the low-cut top framing her breasts, lace edging her nipples, barely concealing their hardness; the hem short, flirting with her ass, pussy bare beneath, thighs exposed. No panties, nothing—fuck, I'm naked under this, she thought, turning in the mirror, ass peeking as she moved, breasts bouncing freely. 

He'll lose it—grab me, fuck me furious. Heart pounding, pussy already wetting the satin slightly, she unlocked the door, stepping out to reveal herself.

Back in the living room, Raghavan sat on the couch, whiskey glass in hand, his eyes snapping to her as she emerged. The babydoll transformed her—breasts full and teasing under the lace, nipples shadowing through the satin, the hem riding high on her thighs, ass curving invitingly as she walked slow, hips swaying like a predator. 

From his view, she was ultimate temptation: every inch of her body amplified—the way her breasts jiggled with each step, satin whispering over her skin, her bare thighs flashing, pussy hinted at under the short hem. Fuck, she's a goddess, he thought, cock hardening instantly, throbbing in his pants. That body—evolved, curved perfection—and she's wearing it for me.

She moved to the couch, not sitting immediately—teasing, standing close, turning slightly to show her side profile, ass bouncing under the satin, the hem lifting just enough to hint at her bare pussy. 

"Like it?" she purred, voice sultry, bending forward subtly, breasts pushing against the lace, nipples hard and visible. Her mind voices roared: Look at my tits, my ass—get hungry, snap and fuck me.

He swallowed hard, eyes devouring—breasts full, ass curved, thighs smooth. "Nivi... you're breathtaking," he growled, voice rough, cock straining. 

She sat then, crossing her legs slow, the satin riding up, flashing thigh almost to her pussy, ass pressing the cushion, breasts bouncing as she leaned back. Fuck, every move's a tease, he thought, hunger building furious.

She reached for her glass, arching her back, breasts thrusting forward, satin tight over her nipples, ass shifting to show more curve.

 "Whiskey tastes better now," she teased, voice naughty, taking a sip, lips parting sensually around the rim. Her pussy throbbed, dripping onto the couch—fuck, he's staring, cock hard; one more move and he'll break.

Lighting another cigarette, she inhaled deep, breasts rising, satin whispering, exhaling smoke slow, lips pursed, eyes locked on his. 

Then she stood, walking to the window, hips swaying exaggerated, ass bouncing under the short hem, satin lifting to tease her bare cheeks. 

Turning, she leaned against the sill, breasts forward, thighs parted slightly, pussy shadowed but implied. "The night's young," she purred, voice indirect, wicked. 

From his view, every inch screamed—breasts full and laced, ass curved invitingly, thighs smooth and bare, the babydoll a veil over her evolved fire.

He gripped his glass tighter, eyes hungry, cock aching—her moves deliberate, body a feast: breasts jiggling with her laugh, ass teasing as she shifted weight, thighs flashing promise. She's teasing hell out of me, he thought, fury building. 

He's breaking—my tits, ass, bare pussy under this; he'll snap soon, fuck me wild.

She returned to the couch, sitting closer, crossing her legs high, satin riding up to bare her thigh fully, ass pressing against him subtly, breasts brushing his arm. 

"Talk more?" she asked, voice sultry, but her body screamed otherwise—every move, every inch in the babydoll making him hungrier, the tease a feast building to explosion.


Continues...
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RE: Power and Submissions of Housewife Nivetha (Nivi) - by nivithenaughty - 17-08-2025, 03:55 PM



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