Adultery How I made my wife fuck my friend

[Kohsaitap]

The morning after our explosive night, the air in our apartment hung heavy with the intoxicating blend of sweat, raw sex, and the lingering remnants of shattered taboos. Nidhi had slipped out at the crack of dawn, her voluptuous body still bearing the red imprints from my possessive hands and Siddu's relentless grip. She'd hastily thrown on her salwar kameez, the fabric clinging to her sweat-dampened skin as she whispered a tearful goodbye in the dim light of the hallway. "Rudra... what have we done?" her voice had trembled, a intoxicating mix of deep regret and the undeniable echo of lingering ecstasy that had coursed through her veins just hours before. But deep down, I knew she'd be back—not just in my thoughts, but soon enough, in my arms, her body yielding to me once more. Priti lay beside me in our king-sized bed, her nude form curled against mine like a contented kitten, a satisfied smile playing on her full lips even as she slept soundly. Siddu had crashed on the living room sofa, his muscular frame sprawled out, snoring softly with his cock still semi-hard, a testament to the marathon session that had left us all utterly spent. As the first rays of the sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm golden glow over the room, I felt a new hunger awaken within me—not just for Priti, but for the complete and utter domination of both women in my life. It was a primal urge, one that demanded more, always more.

I shook Priti awake gently at first, my hand sliding possessively between her smooth thighs to find her pussy still slick and swollen from the loads we'd pumped into her the night before. "Wake up, my little slut," I whispered huskily into her ear, my fingers teasing her sensitive clit with slow, deliberate circles that made her body arch instinctively. "Last night was just the beginning. I want Nidhi every single day from now on. And Siddu? Let him come whenever he wants—but only when I'm here. I want to watch him claim you right in front of me, to see every thrust, every moan."

Priti's eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep and renewed desire, a soft moan escaping her parted lips as I continued fingering her slowly, building the heat between her legs. "Mmm... you're insatiable, Rudra," she purred, her voice husky from the remnants of last night's cries. She ground her hips against my hand, her body already responding eagerly, her juices coating my fingers. "But yes... I loved seeing you take her, claiming your own sister like that. And Siddu fucking me while you watch? It makes me so fucking wet just thinking about it." Her words fueled my arousal, and we fucked quickly that morning, my thick cock plunging deep into her well-used pussy as I imagined Nidhi's desperate cries echoing in my ears once again. The bed creaked under our rhythm, Priti's breasts bouncing with each powerful thrust, her nails digging into my back as she wrapped her legs around me.

Siddu stirred halfway through our session, his eyes cracking open from the sofa in the adjacent living room. He watched us with a lazy grin spreading across his face, his hand absently stroking his hardening cock as he took in the sight of me pounding Priti. Without a word, he rose and joined us, kneeling on the bed to take Priti's mouth while I continued thrusting into her from behind after flipping her onto all fours. Her moans were muffled around Siddu's shaft, her body rocking between us like a perfect vessel for our desires. It set the tone for what was to come: no more hiding, no more pretense. This was our new reality—raw, unfiltered, and utterly addictive. Siddu left shortly after, pulling on his clothes with a satisfied smirk and a promise to return soon, but only when I was around to witness it all. Priti headed to work with a noticeable spring in her step, her orthodox facade—complete with a conservative blouse and skirt—masking the fact that our combined cum was still dripping slowly down her thighs, a secret reminder of her double life.

That afternoon, I couldn't wait any longer. The hunger gnawed at me, driving me to action. I drove to Nidhi's place, my mind racing with vivid visions of her body—those heavy, pendulous breasts that begged to be squeezed, her tight pussy that had clenched around me so perfectly, the way she'd screamed in ecstasy when I claimed her as my own. She lived in a lavish apartment within an exclusive gated community on the city's upscale outskirts, a sprawling complex with manicured gardens, 24/7 security, and high-rise buildings that screamed luxury. Her unit was on the fifth floor, a spacious three-bedroom affair with modern furnishings, a state-of-the-art kitchen, and a private balcony overlooking the community park and neighboring towers. The downstairs area served as her home office for her boutique business consulting firm, while the upstairs held the living quarters where she raised her kids, who were thankfully at college most of the day.

I parked in the visitor's lot and took the elevator up, my heart pounding with anticipation. When I rang the bell, Nidhi opened the door, her face paling instantly at the sight of me. She was dressed in a simple house saree, the soft cotton fabric dbangd modestly over her ample chest, but I could see the outline of her curves beneath—the swell of her hips, the fullness of her thighs. "Rudra... what are you doing here?" she stammered, her voice a whisper of panic. "Last night was... a mistake. The vodka, Siddu... it can't happen again. Please, you have to leave."

I didn't hesitate. I pushed inside, closing the heavy oak door behind me with a firm click, the cool air-conditioned interior enveloping us. "A mistake?" I growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close, our bodies pressing together. "You came three times on your own brother's cock, Nidhi. Don't lie to yourself—or to me." My lips crashed against hers in a demanding kiss, my free hand roaming over her back, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin saree. She resisted for a brief moment, her hands pushing weakly at my chest, but then she melted into me, her tongue meeting mine in a desperate, hungry dance. I ripped her pallu away with one swift motion, exposing her blouse-clad breasts, my hands cupping them roughly, pinching her nipples through the fabric until they hardened into stiff peaks. "See? Your body's already begging for it. You can't deny this."

"Rudra, please... the kids could come home early from college," she whispered breathlessly, but her hips pressed forward against my growing erection, betraying her words. I didn't care about the risks; the thrill only heightened my desire. I lifted her saree, bunching the heavy fabric around her waist, and pushed her against the elegant hallway wall adorned with family photos. My fingers found the edge of her panties, shoving them aside as I thrust two digits into her already slick wetness. She gasped sharply, her head falling back against the wall with a thud, her long hair cascading down. "Oh god... no, we can't..." But her pussy clenched tightly around my fingers, her juices flowing freely as I pumped them in and out, curling them to hit that sensitive spot inside her.

I fucked her right there in the grand hallway, the marble floors cool beneath our feet. Dropping my pants, I freed my throbbing cock and entered her in one swift, powerful motion, lifting her slightly so her legs wrapped around my waist. The saree hiked up further, bunching indecently as I pounded into her against the wall, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoing through the spacious apartment. "Take it, sis," I grunted, my voice low and commanding. "This is what you are now—my daily fucktoy. No more pretending you're the perfect, orthodox widow." Her moans filled the room, growing louder with each thrust, her heavy breasts bouncing free from her unhooked blouse as I tore it open. I sucked on her nipples hard, biting them just enough to elicit cries of pleasure-pain, her nails digging into my shoulders. She came quickly, her walls spasming around my cock in a vice-like grip, her body shuddering as waves of ecstasy washed over her. I followed soon after, filling her with my hot seed, groaning as I pumped every last drop deep inside her. "Every day, Nidhi," I panted, holding her there as she trembled. "I'll be here every day to ravage you like this."

She nodded weakly, her body sliding down the wall as I pulled out, a trail of our combined cum dripping from her swollen pussy onto the pristine floor. "Yes... brother," she whispered, her voice broken but laced with submission.

And so, the pattern began, a delicious routine of daily indulgence. The next day, I arrived at Nidhi's lavish apartment around noon, just after she'd wrapped up her morning business calls from her sleek home office downstairs. The gated community's security guard nodded at me knowingly as I entered—perhaps suspecting something, but discretion was part of the luxury here. Nidhi answered the door in a sheer nightie that clung to her curves, her hair tousled as if she'd been pacing in anticipation. "Rudra... I shouldn't, but... I couldn't stop thinking about yesterday," she admitted softly, her cheeks flushing. I silenced her with a deep, possessive kiss, my hands roaming over her body as I led her straight to the modern kitchen with its granite countertops and high-end appliances.

Without a word, I bent her over the counter, flipping up the nightie to expose her bare ass and pussy. She gasped as the cool marble pressed against her breasts, her nipples hardening instantly. I dropped to my knees briefly, spreading her cheeks to lick her from behind, tasting her arousal mixed with the faint remnants of yesterday's encounter. "Imagine your kids walking in right now," I murmured against her skin, my tongue delving deeper. "Seeing their mom bent over like a common whore, getting fucked by her own brother." The taboo words made her moan louder, her body pushing back against my face eagerly. I stood, freeing my cock and entering her from behind in one smooth thrust, gripping her hips tightly as I set a brutal pace. The kitchen filled with the sounds of our flesh slapping, her cries echoing off the walls. I slapped her ass repeatedly, leaving red handprints on her fair skin, watching them bloom as she whimpered in delight. She came twice before I did—first from the relentless pounding, then again when I reached around to rub her clit furiously. Finally, I spilled inside her, pulling out to watch my cum leak out as she slumped over the counter, panting.

We ate lunch afterward in the dining area, Nidhi sitting gingerly on a cushioned stool, her nightie disheveled, my cum still dripping slowly from her pussy. She tried to maintain some semblance of her orthodox demeanor, chatting about her business, but her eyes kept drifting to my crotch, her body betraying her newfound addiction. The lavish apartment, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and designer furniture, felt like the perfect backdrop for our illicit affairs—private yet thrillingly exposed if one looked closely.

Day three escalated to the bedroom upstairs, a luxurious master suite with a massive four-poster bed, silk sheets, and ambient lighting that cast soft shadows. I arrived in the evening, after her kids had left for their after-college tuition classes. Nidhi was dressed in a traditional saree again, attempting to cling to some normalcy, her hair pinned up modestly. But I stripped her slowly, layer by layer, right on her marital bed—the same one she'd once shared with her ex-husband, now a symbol of her neglected desires. "This bed's seen too much loneliness, sis," I said, my voice dripping with dominance as I pushed her down onto the soft mattress. "Time to christen it properly with your brother's cock."

I tied her hands to the headboard using her own dupatta, the silk fabric binding her wrists securely. She squirmed, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. "Rudra... what if someone hears?" But I ignored her, lowering my head to tease her pussy with my tongue, lapping at her folds slowly, building her arousal until she was begging incoherently. "Please... fuck me, brother... I need it." Only then did I enter her missionary-style, slow and deep, forcing her to look into my eyes as I degraded her with whispered words. "You're my incest slut now, Nidhi. Better than any wife could ever be. Your pussy was made for this—for me." Her body arched beneath me, her heavy breasts heaving as she came screaming, the orgasm ripping through her like a storm. I untied her only to flip her over, taking her doggy-style, pulling her hair back roughly until she admitted through gritted teeth, "Yes, brother... I'm yours completely. Use me however you want."

Meanwhile, back at our apartment, Siddu had taken my invitation to heart, but strictly on my terms—he only came when I was around, reveling in the cuckold dynamic of fucking Priti right in front of me. It was all about the pleasure of my watching, the thrill of seeing my wife claimed by another man while I observed, my own arousal building from the humiliation and excitement. That same evening, as Nidhi recovered in her bed, Siddu showed up unannounced at our door while Priti was preparing dinner in the kitchen. I was in the living room, lounging on the sofa with a book, when he knocked. Priti let him in, her eyes lighting up with that familiar spark of desire. "Siddu... Rudra's home," she said, glancing at me with a knowing smile.

Siddu grinned broadly, his eyes locking onto mine. "Hey, man. Mind if I borrow your wife for a bit? I love knowing you're watching every second of it." I shrugged casually, my cock already stirring in my pants at the prospect. "Go ahead. I like to watch—it's what makes it so fucking hot." That admission aroused Siddu even more; his bulge was evident as he pulled Priti to him right there in the kitchen, kissing her deeply and passionately in front of me. His hands roamed over her body, hiking up her skirt to finger her roughly while I watched from the doorway, my hand absently stroking myself through my jeans.

Priti moaned into his mouth, her body melting against him, glancing at me with a wink that said she was enjoying the performance as much as we were. Siddu wasted no time, bending her over the kitchen counter and thrusting into her from behind, her legs spreading wide as he claimed her. "Look at your wife, Rudra," he taunted, his voice thick with lust as he pounded her harder. "Moaning on my cock like a bitch in heat. She's loving every inch." It didn't bother me; if anything, it fueled my fantasies, seeing Priti devoured like that, her body surrendering completely to him while her eyes met mine, sharing the secret thrill of our twisted arrangement. Siddu came inside her with a guttural groan, pulling out slowly to let me see his thick cum dripping from her stretched pussy. "Your turn, if you want those sloppy seconds," he said with a smirk. I did, stepping forward to fuck her right after, the slick mixture of our loads making her pussy feel even more inviting, her moans intensifying as I reclaimed her.

This became our routine—Siddu visiting Priti two or three times a week, always when I was home to watch. Each session was in front of me: in the hall on the sofa, where he'd have her ride him reverse cowgirl so I could see her breasts bounce and her face contort in pleasure; in our bedroom, with me sitting in the armchair stroking myself as he took her in every position; even in the kitchen during dinner prep, bending her over the sink while the aroma of spices mixed with the scent of sex. His arousal spiked from the audience, his thrusts always harder, his dirty talk bolder each time. "Watch me own your wife, Rudra. Feel that? She's clenching around me because she knows you're seeing it all." Priti loved it too, her orgasms more intense as she played the submissive wife, but her eyes always locked onto mine, the connection between us unbreakable amid the chaos. It was exactly what I wanted: both women claimed, their bodies shared and showcased, my deepest goals manifesting in every moan, every thrust, every drop of cum.

But my fantasies with Nidhi were escalating beyond the private ravagings within her lavish apartment. Her balcony overlooked a neighboring tower in the gated community, where two bachelor brothers in their late 20s lived on an adjacent balcony just across the narrow gap between buildings. I'd noticed them peeking during one of my visits, their eyes hungry and wide as they caught fleeting glimpses of Nidhi through her floor-to-ceiling windows or during our more adventurous moments. The idea ignited something primal and exhibitionistic in me—showcasing her like a prize, turning her into a public spectacle while keeping my own identity hidden behind strategic positioning.

It started on day four. I arrived at Nidhi's in the evening, the sun dipping low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the balcony with its comfortable lounge chairs and potted plants. She greeted me at the door in a silk robe that barely concealed her curves, her body already humming with anticipation from our daily routine. "Rudra... the kids are at a friend's house for a playdate. We have plenty of time," she said, her voice laced with eagerness as I kissed her deeply, my hands slipping inside the robe to fondle her breasts.

"Time for something new, sis," I growled, leading her outside to the balcony. The fresh air carried the scent of blooming flowers from the community gardens below. "Strip for me." Her eyes widened in shock, glancing around at the surrounding buildings. "Out here? Rudra, the neighbors... this is a gated community, but people can see!" But I untied her robe myself, letting it pool at her feet, revealing her completely nude body—her full, heavy breasts with dark nipples already perked, her curved hips leading to a neatly trimmed pussy still marked with faint bruises from our previous sessions. She shivered in the evening breeze, her arms crossing instinctively over her chest. "Rudra, no—the brothers next door, they've been glancing over before. They might see everything."

"That's exactly the point," I replied with a wicked grin, positioning a cushioned lounge chair so that my back faced the neighboring balcony, shielding my face from view. I sat down, pulling my pants down to free my erect cock, then guided Nidhi onto my lap in reverse cowgirl style, her front fully exposed to any potential watchers across the gap. "Ride me, Nidhi. Let them see what a complete slut you are—bouncing on your brother's cock like it's your only purpose."

She hesitated, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she glanced over her shoulder at the adjacent tower, where subtle shadows moved behind the curtains, hinting at curious eyes. "I can't... it's so humiliating, Rudra. What if they recognize me?" But my cock pressed insistently against her wet entrance, and with a defeated whimper, she lowered herself slowly onto me, gasping loudly as I filled her completely. "Oh god... Rudra... this is wrong..." I gripped her hips firmly, guiding her movements, making her bounce up and down with deliberate force. Her heavy breasts jigged wildly with each thrust, her ass slapping against my thighs, her moans carrying on the evening breeze like a siren's call.

Sure enough, the brothers appeared one by one, first the elder peeking cautiously, then both pressing their faces to the glass doors of their balcony, their eyes wide with shock and arousal. They couldn't see my face—only Nidhi's naked form on full display, her tits flopping hypnotically, her expressions twisting in pure ecstasy as she rode me harder. "They're watching, sis," I whispered hotly into her ear, thrusting upward to meet her descents. "Show them what a whore you've become. Let them jerk off to the sight of you." Nidhi's initial shame transformed into something deeper, more intoxicating; her pussy clenched tighter