Misc. Erotica The Slum Wife's Sacrifice - By Novelist Casanova

[novelistcasanova]

After that day, Dhamu fucked me regularly, in his auto, in empty houses, always secret, always grateful, always making me cum hard on his cock. My pussy belonged to him now too, a silent payment for saving my life, for introducing Govindan and the MLA, for the wealth that changed everything. The big house outside the slum became our sanctuary, Shiva home, unaware, my pussy aching from the secrets it held, boobs bouncing under my blouse every time Dhamu fucked me, mangalsutra swinging between them like a reminder of my vows, now shared with the men who owned my body to keep my husband safe.

Years passed. Shiva lived free, never knowing the price I paid. Our sons grew up strong, safe in the big house, the ten additional houses rented out quietly, money flowing in to secure our future. I kept my secret locked deep, pussy forever marked by Govindan, the MLA, and Dhamu, the three men who used it to rewrite our fate. My mangalsutra still rested between my boobs, a symbol of love and sacrifice, my emotional fool heart carrying the weight of it all with quiet strength.
One evening, I walked through the garden of our big house, saree low on my hips, blouse hugging my boobs, mangalsutra swaying gently. Shiva called from the balcony, voice warm. “Meena, come inside. Dinner is ready.”
I smiled, pussy aching gently with old memories, boobs rising with a deep breath. I had saved him. I had saved us. And that was enough.

The End.

Regards 
Novelist Casanova