Adultery Nivetha (Nivi) - Power and Submissions of working wife (03 Oct 2025 - Chapter 100)
#83
Chapter 52: Buffet Spotlight



Nivi walked alongside Raghavan toward the resort’s buffet hall, her lounge shorts clinging tight to her 38-inch ass, the soft cotton barely covering her thighs, riding up with each step to tease the curve of her cheeks, the shimmering thong underneath pressing snugly against her pussy lips, still sore but tingling from the morning’s raw intimacy. 


The sleeveless string top hugged her 34C breasts, the thin straps revealing the push-up bra’s outline, her cleavage bouncing lightly, her navel flashing when she raised her arms to adjust her hair, the soft fabric grazing her skin, making her feel exposed yet bold. Raghavan’s hand rested firmly on her lower back, his fingers brushing the top of her ass, guiding her with a strong, possessive hold that made her heart flutter, her body humming with a mix of pride and heat. 


Fuck, walking like this, dressed so hot, his hand on me—it feels like I’m his, special, like we’re newlyweds on some wild honeymoon. Her thoughts raced, the thrill of the room service guy’s stare still fresh, now amplified by the open corridor, the forest air brushing her exposed skin, her thighs rubbing together, her pussy wetting the thong as she felt his touch, her confidence growing with each step.


As they approached the buffet hall, Nivi noticed other couples—some clearly honeymooners, the women in modern dresses, floral maxis, or tight jeans, their hands adorned with lightly faded mehndi, a subtle mark of their new marriages. They were pretty, but their outfits lacked the daring edge of hers—no plunging necklines, no thigh-high hems, no fabric clinging to every curve like hers did. 


She caught their glances, some curious, some envious, and it made her stand taller, her shoulders back, her breasts thrusting forward, her ass swaying with a deliberate rhythm, her head high, feeling hotter than any of them. These women—they’re married, sweet, but I’m different, bold, sexy, like I’m walking with a crown; his hand makes me feel like his bride, not just a fling. 


Raghavan’s grip tightened, his fingers dipping lower to graze her ass, his voice low and teasing, “Look at you, Nivi—strutting like you own this place, those shorts showing your ass, tits bouncing, every guy’s gonna stare, and you’re mine.”


She smiled, her voice flowing, raw and soft, “Daddy, your hand on me—it’s making me feel special, like we’re on our own honeymoon; those women got their dresses, but mine’s hotter, makes me walk proud, knowing you’re watching.” Her thighs shifted as she walked, her ass swaying more, her breasts bouncing with each step, the thin straps of her top slipping slightly, teasing her bra’s edge, her navel flashing as she raised a hand to wave at a passing couple, the thrill of their eyes on her making her pussy throb, her confidence soaring under his hold.


Inside the buffet hall, the space buzzed with life—couples, families, kids running around, and a group of young bachelors at a corner table, their eyes scanning the room, landing on the women, but when Nivi walked in, she became the feast. Heads turned, men’s gazes locking on her—her ass swaying in the shorts, her cleavage bouncing, her navel peeking as she reached for a plate, her thighs gleaming as she moved through the line. She felt their stares like heat on her skin, making her pussy wetter, her heart racing, the thrill of being watched mixing with a flicker of nervousness. 


Fuck, they’re all looking—my ass, my tits, my navel when I move; it’s like I’m one of those Instagram influencers, homely but glamorous, hotter than they expect. She’d always envied those women online, posing on sponsored trips, balancing sweet and sexy, and now, walking here, she felt bolder, sexier, her body on display, her confidence peaking. 


“Daddy, take some pics—make me look like one of those influencers, hot and bold,” she said, her voice flowing, handing him her phone, posing with a hand on her hip, her ass cocked out, her breasts thrust forward, her navel flashing as she raised her arms, the sun streaming through the hall’s windows, lighting her up.
He grinned, snapping photos, his voice flowing, 


“Fuck, Nivi, you’re hotter than any influencer—ass out, tits up, navel teasing, every guy here’s hard just looking; pose dirtier, baby, show ‘em what you got.” She laughed, shifting poses, turning to show her ass, bending slightly to flash more cleavage, her thighs parting as she leaned against a table, the shorts riding up, her pussy tingling under the thong, the stares of the men around her fueling her boldness, her body moving with a natural sway, her breasts bouncing with each pose, her ass curving as she adjusted her stance.


As they moved through the buffet line, piling plates with fruit, pastries, and eggs, she overheard hushed voices from the bachelor group, their words low but clear enough to catch— “That’s her, the one from the balcony last night, fucking in the dark; couldn’t see her face, but that ass, those curves, it’s gotta be.” 


Another voice chimed in, “Yeah, saw her coming from that honeymoon suite, with that older guy; she’s hot, deserves some young blood like us, could handle the whole gang.” They chuckled, their words sending a chill down her spine, her pussy throbbing harder, a mix of shock and pride washing over her. 


Fuck, they saw us—my ass, my body, from the balcony; they think I could take them all, it’s scary but hot, makes me feel powerful, wanted. She kept her head high, her ass swaying as she walked back to their table, her breasts bouncing, her navel flashing as she reached for a napkin, the men’s eyes following her every move, her confidence soaring despite the nervous thrill.


They sat, eating breakfast, her thighs pressing together under the table, her pussy wet from the whispers, his hand on her knee, rubbing gently. 


“They’re staring, Nivi—those guys, eating you up, probably jerking off later thinking of your ass; how’s it feel, being the center of it all?” he asked, his voice flowing, raw and teasing, his fingers sliding higher, brushing her thigh, his eyes on her cleavage as she leaned forward to eat, her top slipping to show more.


“It’s wild, daddy—those guys, their eyes on my ass, my tits, whispering about last night; feels scary but hot, like I’m owning their stares,” she said, her voice flowing, sipping juice, her breasts heaving, her ass shifting on the chair, the shorts riding up, her pussy tingling under the thong. 


They finished eating, walking around the resort, him snapping more photos, her posing by the pool, the gardens, her ass swaying, breasts bouncing, the young bachelors trailing at a distance, their eyes like hungry dogs, making her feel prouder, bolder, her heart racing with each glance.


He stopped by a tree, his hand on her back, “Ready to head back, Nivi? Or you wanna keep showing off, let those guys drool more?” His voice flowing, dirty and proud, his eyes on her curves, the sun highlighting her body, the forest sounds around them.
She smiled, her voice flowing, 


“Let’s go back, daddy—but I’m ready for more, feeling bold, hot, like I can take on anything with you.” They turned to leave, her ass swaying, breasts bouncing, the bachelors’ eyes following.


The Coimbatore resort shimmered under the climbing morning sun, its golden light bouncing off the pool’s surface as Nivi and Raghavan wandered away from the buffet, the hum of breakfast chatter fading into the warm air. Her lounge shorts clung to her thick thighs, riding up with each step to tease the full curve of her round ass, while the string top hugged her heavy breasts, her nipples pressing faintly against the thin fabric, hardened by the breeze and the weight of eyes on her. 


The air carried jasmine and the distant sizzle of dosas, blending with the faint musk of her own arousal. Nivi’s pussy throbbed, still wet from the bachelor group’s stares across the buffet hall, their whispered comments— “that ass could kill, bet she’s wild” —echoing in her mind. They heard us last night on the balcony, my screams when Raghavan fucked me senseless, she thought, her clit pulsing at the memory of his cock stretching her, his hands bruising her hips as she moaned “Daddy.” Why does their hunger make me so wet? Anand left me untouched for years, but now my body’s awake, craving every glance on my tits, my ass.


Raghavan’s hand hovered near her lower back, a ghost of a touch that sent heat racing through her. His dark eyes flicked to her swaying hips, then up to her face, a slow, possessive smile curling his lips. 


“You’re fucking irresistible, Nivi,” he murmured, voice rough, thick with want. “Those bachelors are losing it, picturing what I got last night—your pussy dripping, your tits bouncing for me.” His words sent a fresh gush to her core, her panties soaked, sticking to her slick folds as she walked. 


He knows I’m wet for him, for this, she thought, her body leading her mind. I’m his slut now, and it feels so fucking good—dangerous, alive.


They paused by the poolside, the water glinting like a mirror, a few guests scattered nearby—a couple sipping filter coffee, a family splashing in the shallow end. Nivi leaned against a wooden railing, her shorts creeping higher, flashing the soft curve of her thighs, her string top pulling tight across her chest, nipples sharp against the fabric. She felt the bachelors’ eyes from the buffet hall’s glass wall, their heads tilted her way, whispering. 


They’re imagining fucking me, cocks hard, wanting my pussy, she thought, her pussy clenching, a slick warmth spreading down her thighs. Why am I so horny for strangers’ stares? Anand’s neglect starved me; now every look sets my body on fire, and I can’t stop it.


“Pose for me, baby,” Raghavan said, pulling out his phone, his tone a blend of command and tease. 


“Let’s make them ache.” He stepped back, framing her against the pool, his gaze devouring her—breasts, hips, thighs. She arched her back subtly, letting the top tease her nipples, her ass shifting as she crossed one leg over the other, the shorts riding up to bare more skin. 


The camera clicked, and a passing waiter faltered, his tray tipping as his eyes snagged on her curves, her exposed thighs. Fuck, I’m dripping now, she thought, her clit aching, panties soaked through. Every look’s fuel, and Raghavan’s making me burn hotter.


“Turn around,” he growled, stepping closer, his breath hot on her neck. She obeyed, facing the pool, her ass on full display, the shorts barely covering her cheeks, the string top slipping to reveal a sliver of her lower back. 


The bachelors’ whispers carried faintly— “That ass, fuck, I’d kill for a piece” —and her pussy pulsed, her juices seeping, dampening the shorts. Raghavan’s hand grazed her hip, fingers brushing the bare skin above her waistband, sending a jolt to her core. 


“You’re killing them, Nivi,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear, his voice a low rumble. “And me. That pussy’s mine, but they’re dying to taste it.” His words were filthy, claiming, and her body screamed for him, her mind racing. He owns me, and I’m letting him—my pussy’s his, but these eyes make me want to push further.


They moved toward a shaded cabana, the air cooler under the canvas, scented with coconut sunscreen and her own faint musk. Raghavan sat on a cushioned lounge chair, pulling her to straddle his lap, her thighs parting over his, the shorts riding up to bare more of her ass. His bulge pressed against her soaked panties, hard and thick, making her gasp softly. 


“Feel that, baby?” he murmured, hands gripping her hips, squeezing her curves. “You’ve got me throbbing, and those fuckers watching are burning with jealousy.” Her pussy clenched, desperate for his cock, her nipples straining against the top. Fuck, I’d let him take me right here, she thought, her body in charge. Anand left me dry; now I’m a slut for this heat, craving every second.


A bachelor from the group edged closer, pretending to scroll his phone, his eyes flicking to Nivi’s thighs, her breasts, lingering on the way her shorts hugged her ass. Raghavan noticed, his grip tightening, a low growl in his throat. “He’s picturing fucking you,” he said, voice a dangerous whisper, his fingers slipping just under her shorts, brushing the edge of her soaked panties. 


“But you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” She nodded, a soft moan escaping as his thumb grazed her clit through the fabric, her pussy gushing, her body trembling. He’s teasing me in public, and I’m dripping for it, she thought, her mind grappling with the thrill. I’m his, but these looks—they’re pushing me to want more.


“Enough of this,” Raghavan said, his voice thick with need, standing and pulling her up, her ass swaying as she steadied herself, the shorts clinging to her wet folds. “Let’s take this to the suite, baby. Time to make you scream for Daddy again.” 


Her pussy flared, juices dripping down her thigh, marking the shorts as they walked toward the resort’s main building. The bachelor’s stare followed, joined by a guest at the pool, their eyes hungry, burning into her swaying hips, her bouncing breasts. 


Let them watch, let them want, she thought, her body alive, her clit throbbing with anticipation. I’m done with Anand’s empty world; this is my fire, and I’m burning for it.


They reached the elevator, the doors sliding open, and Raghavan’s hand found her lower back, guiding her in, the promise of the honeymoon suite hanging heavy between them. As the doors closed, sealing them in, Nivi’s heart raced, her pussy soaked, her body ready to claim every inch of the desire she’d unleashed. 


This is who I am now, she thought, her mind surrendering to her fire, and I’m never going back.


Their footsteps echoed toward the suite, the resort’s hum fading behind them.
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RE: Nivetha (Nivi) - Power and Submissions of working wife (30 Aug 2025 - Chapter 49) - by nivithenaughty - 31-08-2025, 01:40 PM



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