Adultery Nivetha (Nivi) - Power and Submissions of working wife (03 Oct 2025 - Chapter 100)
#35
Chapter 26: Thrown into Flames


Raghavan's shoulder was solid under her, his muscles flexing as he carried Nivi like a doll—weightless, claimed, her babydoll riding up fully now, bare ass exposed to the cool air, pussy dripping down her thighs, breasts bouncing against his back with each powerful stride. 

The villa's hallway blurred past, dim lamps casting shadows on the walls, but Nivi's mind raced, wicked thoughts tumbling like wildfire. Fuck, he's strong—old, probably my father's age or more, I thought he'd be frail, cock soft from years, unable to handle my needs, my curves, my hunger. Before tonight, I doubted—can this old man fuck me like I crave, pound my pussy until I scream? 

But now... his grip, the way he hoisted me effortless, that rub against his hardness earlier... god, he's massive, harder than Anand ever was, throbbing like steel. 

Her pussy clenched, leaking more onto his shoulder, the satin hem tangled at her waist, bare cheeks brushing his shirt. Revelations crashed: He's no old man—he's fire, and I'm the one who might break. 

Can I even manage him? Take that cock, let him own me? Her clit throbbed, ass jiggling with his steps, nipples hard against the lace, body on edge—fuck, yes, I want to try, want him to stretch me, fill me until I can't think.
He kicked open the bedroom door, the master suite sprawling—king bed with dark sheets, moonlight filtering through curtains, the air thick with anticipation.

 With a growl, he threw her onto the bed like property, her body bouncing on the mattress, breasts jiggling wildly under the babydoll, ass landing soft, pussy leaking onto the satin sheets immediately, a dark spot spreading from her arousal. Fuck, thrown like a toy, she thought, mind voices lustful and desperate: Look at him—towering, eyes wild, cock tenting his pants. 

I was wrong about his age; he's virile, hard as rock, and I'm soaking the bed already, pussy begging for him. Her thighs parted instinctively, babydoll hem riding up to expose her bare pussy, glistening, fresh from the shower but dripping anew. Anand never made me this wet, this needy—Raghavan's just starting, and I'm leaking like a slut.

He stood at the bed's edge, eyes devouring her—breasts heaving, nipples hard points through the lace, ass curved on the sheets, thighs spread to show her slick pussy. From his view, she was ultimate surrender: evolved body bare and wanting, tits full and perky, ass inviting, pussy fresh and non-used looking despite motherhood, pink and swollen. Fuck, she's mine—curves I sparked, now begging, he thought, cock throbbing painfully. 

He started undressing slow, deliberate—shirt unbuttoned, revealing a chest toned from years of quiet strength, not ripped but firm, hair dusted across, muscles flexing as he shrugged it off. Nivi watched lustfully, propped on elbows, breasts thrusting forward, pussy leaking more onto the bed—god, his chest, broad and inviting, nipples hard; he's no frail old man, he's built to fuck.

Pants next, zipper rasping down, his cock outlined massive in boxers, hard and thick, tenting the fabric. He stepped out, standing in just boxers, the bulge enormous, pre-cum staining the front, cockhead visible through the material. Fuck, that's huge—harder, thicker than Anand's ever was, she thought, pussy gushing, leaking a puddle on the sheets, her ass shifting in it. I doubted his age, but look at that cock—steel, ready to ruin me. Can I take it? Stretch around him? 

Yes, I need to—feel him own my pussy, make me scream. Her eyes feasted—thighs strong, cock throbbing visibly, balls heavy under the boxers.

He climbed onto the bed, body over hers like a predator, his weight pressing her down, cock hard against her thigh through the boxers, massive and hot. She gasped, breasts crushing against his chest, nipples scbanging lace. Fuck, he's on me, heavy, dominant, she thought, pussy clenching empty, leaking more. 

He captured her lips in a furious kiss, tongue plunging deep, claiming her mouth, smoke and whiskey mingling, his hands roaming—grabbing her ass, squeezing hard, fingers digging into bare cheeks under the hem. Her mind voices screamed: Yes, kiss me dirty, own me—your cock's so hard, pressing my thigh; fuck, it's bigger than I imagined.

The kiss broke, his mouth traveling down—nipping her neck, sucking marks into her skin, gentle but possessive, her breasts heaving as he reached them. 

He pulled the lace down, exposing one nipple, mouth latching hot and wet, tongue swirling, sucking hard, teeth grazing. Fuck, his mouth on my tit—sucking like he owns it, she thought, back arching, pussy gushing onto the sheets, ass grinding up. Anand never worshipped like this; Raghavan's savoring, making me leak.

He switched to the other breast, hand kneading the first, pinching nipple, his cock grinding her thigh, hard and insistent. Down further—kissing her stomach, savoring the motherhood marks, faint lines and scars from carrying life. His tongue traced them slow, lips pressing reverent but dirty, sucking gently on the soft skin around her navel, tongue dipping in, swirling. 

"Beautiful," he growled against her, voice rough, hands pushing the babydoll up, exposing more. Those marks—proof of her strength, her curves, he thought, cock throbbing. She's evolved—mother, woman, mine.

She moaned, ass lifting, pussy leaking wildly, the sheets soaked under her. Fuck, he's kissing my marks, tongue in my navel—dirty, worshipping; no one's done this, seen my scars as hot, she thought, He's not just fucking; he's claiming every inch, even the parts I hid. Her pussy ached empty, clit begging, wetness pooling.

He undressed her inch by inch, mouth traveling down—kissing her hips, sucking marks into her thighs, hands pulling the babydoll lower, satin dragging over her skin, teasing her breasts, her stomach, until it bunched at her knees. 

Her body bare now, breasts heaving, ass curved on the sheets, pussy exposed—gorgeous, pink and swollen, fresh and non-used looking, glistening wet, lips parted slightly, clit hard and begging. He paused, eyes locked on it close, breath hot against her folds.

From his view, it was perfection—pussy fresh, untouched-looking despite years, wet and ready, folds pink and slick, clit pulsing. Fuck, she's dripping for me, he thought, cock aching.

Nivi's thoughts raced, body on fire: He's staring at my pussy so close—seeing how wet, how fresh it looks, like no one's touched it right. Fuck, Anand never looked like this, hungry; Raghavan's devouring with eyes. Can he see I'm leaking? Smell me? God, take it—lick, fuck, own my fresh pussy.  This is it—bare, wanted, his.


Continues....
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RE: Power and Submissions of Housewife Nivetha (Nivi) - by nivithenaughty - 17-08-2025, 04:03 PM



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