Yesterday, 10:40 AM
Part 3
The week dragged on, each day a cocktail of dread and excitement. At the office, Ash's presence loomed larger; he'd catch my eye during meetings, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, as if he could see right through to the secrets I was feeding him. I'd nod back, my cheeks burning, the weight of our pact pressing on me. Home was no escape—Chitra moved through our routines with her usual grace, but now every sway of her hips in those silk sarees sent my mind reeling to Ash's texts. The obsession grew; I'd jerk off in the bathroom, imagining her under him, her loyalty cracking like thin ice.
That Monday night, after dinner, Chitra slipped into a cream silk saree to try it on for the party. The fabric clung to her curves, the blouse low-cut enough to tease the swell of her full tits. She stood before the mirror, adjusting the pallu, oblivious to my phone in hand.
Chitra: Do you think this is too much?
A shy smile, her long wavy hair cascading down her back.
Me: Not at all. You look perfect
My voice was thick. Heart pounding, I snapped a few photos—her posing with a hand on her hip, the saree dbangd low to show her soft navel, then one from behind as she bent slightly, the material outlining her plump ass. I sent them to Ash immediately, my thumb hovering before hitting send.
Me: More for you. She's trying outfits. What do you think?
His reply buzzed almost instantly: Damn, Hari. That ass in silk... I want to grab it, pull her against me. Make her bend over right there. Good job getting these. Tease her into something sexier tomorrow. Pose her like she's waiting for me.
The command stirred something deep, a submissive pull that made my cock harden.
Me: She's hesitant about revealing stuff. But I'll try.
I glanced at Chitra as she changed out of the saree, her bra hugging those 36 B tits I'd described to him.
Ash: No excuses. You're my little helper now. Tell her it's for the party, make it fun. Or do I need to step in?
The 'little helper' stung, but it fueled the heat in my veins. I stroked myself later that night, Chitra asleep beside me, picturing his tall, muscular frame dominating her.
By Wednesday, Ash's texts had escalated.
Ash: Send me one of her tits close up. Unbutton that blouse a bit.
I waited until she was in the shower, sneaking into our bedroom to grab a photo from memory—her topless from months ago, nipples dark and erect.
Me: Can't get new ones yet. This is old, but she's the same.
Ash: Risk it, Hari. For me. Imagine my mouth on those nipples, sucking while you watch. She's a cow that needs to be milked by this bull.
His words painted vivid pictures, jealousy twisting with arousal. I came hard reading that, guilt flooding me after.
Thursday evening, his next command came:
Ash: Take her shopping tomorrow. Tell her it's to find the perfect outfit for the party. I want pics of her trying on slutty stuff—short dresses, tight blouses that show cleavage. Frame it like it's my idea indirectly.
I swallowed hard, the manipulation clear. He was pulling strings, making me his puppet.
Me: Okay. I'll say it's to impress the boss.
Ash: Smart boy. Do it right, and maybe I'll let you listen when I finally fuck her.
The promise—or threat—sent shivers down my spine. Our texts flowed hot and heavy that night:
Ash: Describe her pussy to me. Wet and tight?
Me: Yes, shaved smooth, gets so wet when I eat her out.
Ash: Bet she'd cream on my thick cock. You're getting her ready for me, aren't you?
Each exchange deepened my descent, obedience blending with the thrill of betrayal.
Friday afternoon, I broached it with Chitra over tea.
Me: Hey, love, why don't we go shopping tomorrow? For the party outfit.
She raised an eyebrow, stirring her chai.
Chitra: Shopping? With you? That's new.
Her tone was playful, but she agreed, curiosity lighting her eyes.
Chitra: Alright, if it'll make you happy.
Saturday morning, we hit a boutique in Brigade Road, the air thick with perfume and silk. Chitra browsed sarees at first, conservative choices, but I steered her toward edgier options—a black silk saree with a sheer blouse, a fitted red lehenga that hugged her ass. In the trial room, she emerged in the black one, the fabric shimmering, her tits straining against the low neckline, navel exposed.
Chitra: This feels... bold.
She was blushing, but she twirled for me.
Me: It's stunning. Ash would approve,' I slipped, then covered. 'I mean, for the party crowd.'
My phone was out, snapping pics discreetly—her smiling coyly, then one bending to adjust her heel, ass curving invitingly. I texted Ash from the waiting area:
Me: She's trying the black saree. Looks like sin. Pic attached.
Ash: Fuck yes. That cleavage... tell her to try the red one next, something tighter. Describe how her ass moves.
Me: Try the red lehenga—it's modern, sexy.
She hesitated but complied, emerging in the tight outfit, the skirt flaring over her hips, blouse dipping low. Her tits bounced slightly as she walked, and I captured it all—close-ups of her curves, her fair skin glowing.
Me: Red one now. Tits spilling out, ass perfect for grabbing.
Ash: Good work. Make her buy it. Imagine me peeling it off her at the party.
His responses kept coming, graphic and demanding.
Ash: Does she get wet trying these on? Touch her, see.
I didn't, but the thought made me ache.
Me: Not yet, but she's flushed. Excited maybe.
We bought the red lehenga, Chitra giggling about how 'adventurous' I was being. That night, texts with Ash turned feverish.
Ash: You're turning her into my hotwife, Hari. Soon she'll beg for my cock.
Me: I know. It's killing me, but... hot.
Ash: Admit it—you want to see me stretch her pussy.
Me: Yes. God, yes. The admission felt like surrender, my submission solidifying.
------
Party night arrived too soon. Chitra transformed in our bedroom, slipping into the red lehenga. The blouse cupped her full tits, a hint of cleavage teasing, the skirt swirling around her plump ass and thighs. Her long hair loose, makeup subtle but enhancing her fair glow. 'Ready?' she asked, nerves mixing with excitement.
'You look incredible,' I said, kissing her forehead, my heart racing. As we drove to the Koramangala hotel, the city's lights blurred, tension coiling in my gut.
Ash's last text: Bring her to me. Watch how I claim what's mine.
The ballroom buzzed—chandeliers sparkling, laughter and clinking glasses. Colleagues mingled in suits and gowns. Chitra clung to my arm, shy at first, but her eyes scanned the room. Then she spotted him—Ash, tall and commanding in a crisp sherwani, his muscular build evident, dark eyes locking on her across the crowd.
His gaze was intense, hungry, tracing her curves like a predator. Chitra stiffened beside me, her hand tightening on my arm. I saw the realization dawn— the lingering looks, the insistence on her coming, the subtle attention. Color rose in her cheeks, but she hid it, forcing a smile.
Chitra: Your boss looks... sharp...
...she murmured, voice steady, though her eyes darted away.
I nodded, pretending ignorance.
Me: Yeah, he's the center of attention.
Inside, I knew: she sensed his desire now, the pull toward this alpha man. Ash smirked from afar, nodding at me—a silent promise. The air thickened, charged with unspoken tension between us three, the game inching closer to its edge.
The week dragged on, each day a cocktail of dread and excitement. At the office, Ash's presence loomed larger; he'd catch my eye during meetings, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, as if he could see right through to the secrets I was feeding him. I'd nod back, my cheeks burning, the weight of our pact pressing on me. Home was no escape—Chitra moved through our routines with her usual grace, but now every sway of her hips in those silk sarees sent my mind reeling to Ash's texts. The obsession grew; I'd jerk off in the bathroom, imagining her under him, her loyalty cracking like thin ice.
That Monday night, after dinner, Chitra slipped into a cream silk saree to try it on for the party. The fabric clung to her curves, the blouse low-cut enough to tease the swell of her full tits. She stood before the mirror, adjusting the pallu, oblivious to my phone in hand.
Chitra: Do you think this is too much?
A shy smile, her long wavy hair cascading down her back.
Me: Not at all. You look perfect
My voice was thick. Heart pounding, I snapped a few photos—her posing with a hand on her hip, the saree dbangd low to show her soft navel, then one from behind as she bent slightly, the material outlining her plump ass. I sent them to Ash immediately, my thumb hovering before hitting send.
Me: More for you. She's trying outfits. What do you think?
His reply buzzed almost instantly: Damn, Hari. That ass in silk... I want to grab it, pull her against me. Make her bend over right there. Good job getting these. Tease her into something sexier tomorrow. Pose her like she's waiting for me.
The command stirred something deep, a submissive pull that made my cock harden.
Me: She's hesitant about revealing stuff. But I'll try.
I glanced at Chitra as she changed out of the saree, her bra hugging those 36 B tits I'd described to him.
Ash: No excuses. You're my little helper now. Tell her it's for the party, make it fun. Or do I need to step in?
The 'little helper' stung, but it fueled the heat in my veins. I stroked myself later that night, Chitra asleep beside me, picturing his tall, muscular frame dominating her.
By Wednesday, Ash's texts had escalated.
Ash: Send me one of her tits close up. Unbutton that blouse a bit.
I waited until she was in the shower, sneaking into our bedroom to grab a photo from memory—her topless from months ago, nipples dark and erect.
Me: Can't get new ones yet. This is old, but she's the same.
Ash: Risk it, Hari. For me. Imagine my mouth on those nipples, sucking while you watch. She's a cow that needs to be milked by this bull.
His words painted vivid pictures, jealousy twisting with arousal. I came hard reading that, guilt flooding me after.
Thursday evening, his next command came:
Ash: Take her shopping tomorrow. Tell her it's to find the perfect outfit for the party. I want pics of her trying on slutty stuff—short dresses, tight blouses that show cleavage. Frame it like it's my idea indirectly.
I swallowed hard, the manipulation clear. He was pulling strings, making me his puppet.
Me: Okay. I'll say it's to impress the boss.
Ash: Smart boy. Do it right, and maybe I'll let you listen when I finally fuck her.
The promise—or threat—sent shivers down my spine. Our texts flowed hot and heavy that night:
Ash: Describe her pussy to me. Wet and tight?
Me: Yes, shaved smooth, gets so wet when I eat her out.
Ash: Bet she'd cream on my thick cock. You're getting her ready for me, aren't you?
Each exchange deepened my descent, obedience blending with the thrill of betrayal.
Friday afternoon, I broached it with Chitra over tea.
Me: Hey, love, why don't we go shopping tomorrow? For the party outfit.
She raised an eyebrow, stirring her chai.
Chitra: Shopping? With you? That's new.
Her tone was playful, but she agreed, curiosity lighting her eyes.
Chitra: Alright, if it'll make you happy.
Saturday morning, we hit a boutique in Brigade Road, the air thick with perfume and silk. Chitra browsed sarees at first, conservative choices, but I steered her toward edgier options—a black silk saree with a sheer blouse, a fitted red lehenga that hugged her ass. In the trial room, she emerged in the black one, the fabric shimmering, her tits straining against the low neckline, navel exposed.
Chitra: This feels... bold.
She was blushing, but she twirled for me.
Me: It's stunning. Ash would approve,' I slipped, then covered. 'I mean, for the party crowd.'
My phone was out, snapping pics discreetly—her smiling coyly, then one bending to adjust her heel, ass curving invitingly. I texted Ash from the waiting area:
Me: She's trying the black saree. Looks like sin. Pic attached.
Ash: Fuck yes. That cleavage... tell her to try the red one next, something tighter. Describe how her ass moves.
Me: Try the red lehenga—it's modern, sexy.
She hesitated but complied, emerging in the tight outfit, the skirt flaring over her hips, blouse dipping low. Her tits bounced slightly as she walked, and I captured it all—close-ups of her curves, her fair skin glowing.
Me: Red one now. Tits spilling out, ass perfect for grabbing.
Ash: Good work. Make her buy it. Imagine me peeling it off her at the party.
His responses kept coming, graphic and demanding.
Ash: Does she get wet trying these on? Touch her, see.
I didn't, but the thought made me ache.
Me: Not yet, but she's flushed. Excited maybe.
We bought the red lehenga, Chitra giggling about how 'adventurous' I was being. That night, texts with Ash turned feverish.
Ash: You're turning her into my hotwife, Hari. Soon she'll beg for my cock.
Me: I know. It's killing me, but... hot.
Ash: Admit it—you want to see me stretch her pussy.
Me: Yes. God, yes. The admission felt like surrender, my submission solidifying.
------
Party night arrived too soon. Chitra transformed in our bedroom, slipping into the red lehenga. The blouse cupped her full tits, a hint of cleavage teasing, the skirt swirling around her plump ass and thighs. Her long hair loose, makeup subtle but enhancing her fair glow. 'Ready?' she asked, nerves mixing with excitement.
'You look incredible,' I said, kissing her forehead, my heart racing. As we drove to the Koramangala hotel, the city's lights blurred, tension coiling in my gut.
Ash's last text: Bring her to me. Watch how I claim what's mine.
The ballroom buzzed—chandeliers sparkling, laughter and clinking glasses. Colleagues mingled in suits and gowns. Chitra clung to my arm, shy at first, but her eyes scanned the room. Then she spotted him—Ash, tall and commanding in a crisp sherwani, his muscular build evident, dark eyes locking on her across the crowd.
His gaze was intense, hungry, tracing her curves like a predator. Chitra stiffened beside me, her hand tightening on my arm. I saw the realization dawn— the lingering looks, the insistence on her coming, the subtle attention. Color rose in her cheeks, but she hid it, forcing a smile.
Chitra: Your boss looks... sharp...
...she murmured, voice steady, though her eyes darted away.
I nodded, pretending ignorance.
Me: Yeah, he's the center of attention.
Inside, I knew: she sensed his desire now, the pull toward this alpha man. Ash smirked from afar, nodding at me—a silent promise. The air thickened, charged with unspoken tension between us three, the game inching closer to its edge.
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