Adultery Humiliated Hubby Akhil leading to cuckold version 2.0

[samanthasam]

The next morning dawned with a soft glow filtering through the curtains, casting warm shadows across the bedroom. Akhil stirred first, his body heavy with the weight of unfulfilled desire from the night before. Priya lay beside him, her naked form sprawled languidly, one leg thrown over the sheets, exposing the smooth expanse of her thigh and the faint marks from yesterday's indulgences. He watched her chest rise and fall, nipples pebbled in the cool air, and felt that familiar ache in his groin—hard but ignored, just as she'd commanded.

She woke slowly, stretching like a cat, her arms arching overhead to thrust her breasts upward. A lazy smile curved her lips as she caught him staring. 'Morning, pet,' she murmured, her voice still husky from sleep. Instead of rolling toward him, she turned away, reaching for her phone on the nightstand. 'Check the kitchen. Make sure Sundar arrives on time today. And remember—bring his friend, as I said.'

Akhil nodded, slipping out of bed with a quiet 'Yes, Priya,' his erection bobbing as he dressed in loose pants and a shirt, hoping to hide his arousal. Downstairs, he busied himself with breakfast preparations, the memory of yesterday's kitchen scene replaying in his mind—the way her body had trembled under Sundar's thrusts, the salty flood he'd lapped from her afterward. His hands shook as he sliced fruit, cock straining against the fabric.

The doorbell rang promptly at eight, and Akhil opened it to find Sundar standing there, a shy grin on his face, accompanied by a lanky young man about the same age—Ravi, Sundar introduced him, his eyes darting curiously around the foyer. Both wore simple uniforms, but there was a new confidence in Sundar's posture, emboldened by Priya's favors. 'Memsaab called?' Sundar asked, though it was more statement than question.

'Yes, come in,' Akhil replied, voice tight, leading them to the kitchen. He poured tea for them, his back turned to avoid their knowing glances. Footsteps descended the stairs, and Priya appeared, wrapped only in a thin silk robe that clung to her curves, the belt loosely tied so it gaped open at the front, revealing glimpses of her cleavage and the shadow between her legs. Her hair tumbled wild over her shoulders, and she moved with deliberate grace, hips swaying as she entered the room.

'Morning, boys,' she greeted, her tone warm but laced with authority. She leaned against the counter near Sundar, the robe parting further to expose one thigh up to her hip. Ravi's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing as he sipped his tea too quickly, nearly choking. Sundar, more composed, met her gaze steadily, a spark of anticipation in his expression.

Priya took a cup from Akhil without a word, sipping slowly while her free hand rested on Sundar's shoulder, fingers tracing lazy circles on his neck. 'You did well yesterday,' she said softly, just loud enough for Akhil and Ravi to hear. 'And you brought a friend, as asked. Good.' She turned her attention to Ravi, stepping closer until her robe brushed his arm. 'What's your name again? Ravi? Have you worked with Sundar long?'

'Y-yes, memsaab,' Ravi stammered, his gaze flickering to the open vee of her robe, where her breasts threatened to spill free. Priya noticed, arching her back slightly to accentuate the swell, but she didn't push further—not yet. Instead, she handed him a cloth. 'Start on the living room windows. Make them spotless. Sundar, you handle the floors here.'

As they moved to their tasks, Priya settled at the kitchen table, crossing her legs so the robe rode up, baring her inner thigh. Akhil stood nearby, wiping counters unnecessarily, his eyes drawn to her exposed skin. She caught his look and patted the chair beside her. 'Sit. Watch them work.' He obeyed, the wooden seat cool against his heated body.

Sundar began mopping, his movements efficient but slowed whenever he passed near Priya, stealing glances at her legs. Ravi, in the adjacent living room, polished the glass with vigor, but his focus wavered, turning back toward the kitchen doorway. Priya uncrossed and recrossed her legs slowly, the motion parting the robe just enough to flash the trimmed patch above her pussy before it settled again. Akhil's breath hitched; he shifted in his seat, cock throbbing painfully.

'They're strong, aren't they?' Priya whispered to him, her hand sliding onto his thigh under the table, nails digging in lightly. 'Look at Sundar's arms—veins popping as he scrubs. And Ravi's back, all lean muscle.' Her fingers crept higher, brushing the bulge in his pants, but she stopped short of stroking, teasing the edge of torment. Akhil nodded, whispering, 'Yes... they are.' The humiliation simmered low, building like a slow fire.

She leaned back, letting the robe slip open at the top, one nipple peeking out briefly before she adjusted it with a casual tug—almost covering, but not quite. Sundar paused his mopping, eyes locked on the motion, his mop handle gripped tighter. Priya smiled at him. 'Something wrong? Keep going— I like watching you sweat.' He resumed, but his rhythm faltered, sweat beading on his forehead despite the mild morning.

Minutes stretched into a tense half-hour, the only sounds the slosh of water, the squeak of cloth on glass, and Priya's occasional hum of approval. She directed them verbally—'Higher on that pane, Ravi,' or 'Get into the corners, Sundar'—her voice carrying a sultry undertone that made Akhil's skin prickle. Finally, she stood, robe swaying, and sauntered into the living room. 'Let me see your progress.'

Ravi stepped back as she approached the window, pressing close to inspect it, her body inches from his. The robe gaped again, this time fully exposing the side of one breast, the curve brushing his arm accidentally—or not. Ravi froze, his polishing rag dangling forgotten. Priya turned to him, her face inches from his. 'Nervous? First time in a house like this?' She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart race beneath the shirt. 'Relax. I don't bite... unless asked.'

Akhil watched from the kitchen doorway, fists clenched at his sides, arousal twisting with jealousy as Ravi's hand twitched, as if unsure whether to touch her. Priya stepped back, letting the moment hang, then returned to the kitchen. 'They're almost done. Akhil, prepare lunch—something light. The boys will eat with us.'

As Akhil chopped vegetables, Priya lounged against the counter, chatting idly with Sundar about his village, her questions probing gently—did he have a girlfriend? What did he do for fun? Each answer drew her closer, her robe loosening with every lean or gesture. By the time plates were set, the air hummed with unspoken tension, Ravi stealing glances while Sundar grew bolder, his eyes tracing her form openly.

They ate at the table, Priya at the head, the young men on one side, Akhil opposite. She served them first, her fingers brushing theirs as she passed dishes, lingering on Sundar's knee under the table once, making him jolt. Conversation flowed around work and weather, but Priya steered it toward the personal—'Akhil here is so helpful around the house,' she said with a wink, her foot sliding up Ravi's calf, hidden by the tablecloth. He nearly dropped his fork, face reddening.

Akhil pushed food around his plate, appetite lost to the knot in his stomach. Priya's dominance wove through every interaction, subtle commands wrapped in smiles, building the heat without eruption. After the meal, she dismissed them to finish chores, but not before pressing a cool glass of water into Ravi's hand, her thumb stroking his wrist. 'Stay hydrated. It's getting warm.'

Alone with Akhil in the kitchen, she finally turned to him, backing him against the sink. 'Enjoying the show?' Her hand cupped his balls through his pants, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. 'They're fresh, eager. Unlike you.' She unzipped him slowly, exposing his leaking cock to the air, but instead of relief, she wrapped her fingers around the base, holding firm without stroking. 'Clean up lunch. I'll supervise them. Behave, and maybe later...'

She left him there, hard and denied, the promise dangling like a threat. The day unfolded in languid increments—Priya directing chores from the couch, robe riding up as she reclined, legs parted just so; Sundar vacuuming near her feet, close enough to smell her scent; Ravi dusting shelves, forced to reach past her when she 'accidentally' blocked his path, her breast grazing his side. Each brush, each glance layered the humiliation, Akhil trailing like a shadow, fetching tools or drinks, his erection a constant, aching reminder.

By midday, the house gleamed, but the tension thickened. Priya called a break, inviting them to the veranda for cold drinks. She shed the robe entirely in the privacy of the hallway—though the open windows risked glimpses from neighbors—emerging in a skimpy bikini top and shorts that barely contained her ass. 'Too hot for layers,' she explained with a shrug, handing out glasses. The young men sat on the steps, eyes glued to her barely covered body as she leaned on the railing, chatting casually, her posture arching to display every curve.

Akhil served from behind, humiliated by the way they ignored him, focused solely on her. Priya's laughter rang out, light but charged, as she teased Sundar about his village stories, her hand resting on his thigh briefly during a punchline. Ravi shifted uncomfortably, his shorts tenting. She noticed, but only smiled, letting the moment simmer. 'Back to work soon, boys. But first—tell me, what do you think of the view from here?' Her eyes flicked to the courtyard below, where a few residents passed, oblivious for now.

The heat built inexorably, Priya's control absolute, drawing out the anticipation until Akhil's every nerve sang with frustrated need. She was no hurried temptress; she was the architect of their slow unraveling, savoring each thread of dominance.