Adultery The Strict wife Swati's humiliation and Submission.

[Suresh@123]

Swati stood at the door of the guest room for almost a minute before she could step inside. Her heart was already beating very fast — thump… thump… thump — like a drum inside her chest. She kept telling herself, “I am only doing this for relief. Nothing more. I am still in control.” But deep inside, she knew she was lying to herself. The constant wetness between her legs, the hard nipples rubbing against her nightie, and the dirty memories of Khan fucking Rani had made her weak with curiosity and shame.
She was wearing only a short peach silk nightie. It was very thin and reached just below her hips. Every time she moved, the soft fabric brushed against her full breasts and smooth thighs. Her 36-28-36 figure looked even more tempting in the dim golden light. She felt shy and exposed, like she was doing something forbidden.
Finally, she walked in and lay down on her stomach on the large bed. She buried her face in the pillow so she wouldn’t have to look at Khan. Her hands were trembling slightly as she stretched her arms above her head. Her heartbeat was so loud she could hear it in her ears.



Swati lay face down on the large bed, her heart hammering so loudly she was sure Khan could hear it. She wore nothing but a short, peach-coloured silk nightie that had already ridden up dangerously high on her thighs. The thin fabric clung to her oiled skin, outlining every curve of her perfect 36-28-36 figure. Her full, heavy breasts were pressed against the cool sheet, nipples stiff and aching. Her deep, oval navel was flattened into the mattress, sending constant little sparks through her lower belly. Between her smooth, hairless thighs, her pussy was already shamefully wet — slick juices slowly coating her inner lips.
She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Yet the forbidden thrill made her clit throb harder.
Khan stood beside the bed, tall and powerful. His white vest stretched tightly over his broad, muscular chest. His dark brown skin gleamed. The massive bulge in his lungi was impossible to ignore — his 9-inch cock already half-hard just from the sight of her lying there.
“Memsaab… shall I begin?” His voice was low, respectful on the surface, but thick with barely contained hunger.
Swati turned her face away, hiding her flushed cheeks. Her voice came out weaker than she wanted. “Only shoulders and back. Nothing else. Be quick.”
Khan poured a generous amount of warm oil into his large palms and rubbed them together. The sound of his hands sliding was obscenely intimate in the quiet room.
He started at her shoulders.
The moment his strong, rough palms made contact with her soft skin, Swati sucked in a sharp breath. His hands were big, warm, and incredibly powerful — years of hard labour and driving had made them firm and skilled. He pressed his thumbs deeply into the tight muscles at the base of her neck, moving in slow, deliberate circles.
A long, involuntary sigh escaped Swati’s lips. “Ahhh…”


When his warm, oily hands first touched her shoulders, Swati’s whole body jerked slightly. Her heartbeat shot up suddenly — fast and strong. She felt a hot wave of shyness rush through her. This was her driver touching her. A servant. Her proud mind screamed, “Stop this right now! You are the Assistant CEO. You dominate everyone!” But her body was already reacting. Her breathing became quicker. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against the bed, making her full breasts press harder into the sheet.
Khan’s strong thumbs pressed deeply into the tight muscles of her shoulders and neck. The pressure felt so good that Swati had to bite her lip to stop a moan. His rough palms moved in slow circles, spreading warm oil over her soft skin. Every stroke made her feel more relaxed and more ashamed at the same time.
“Memsaab, your shoulders are very tight,” Khan said gently.
Swati didn’t answer. She was too shy. Her face burned red against the pillow. She kept thinking, “What am I doing? Why did I agree to this? If anyone finds out…” Her heartbeat kept rising and falling — sometimes fast with fear, sometimes slow with guilty pleasure.
Khan moved his hands lower, massaging her upper back with long, sweeping strokes. His big palms glided from her shoulders all the way down to her waist, spreading glossy oil everywhere. Swati’s smooth back started shining in the soft light. The nightie had already started riding up a little. She felt very shy knowing her lower body was becoming more exposed.
Her chest was heaving now — up and down, up and down — because of the tension and nervousness. Every breath made her hard nipples rub against the silk sheet, sending small sparks of pleasure through her breasts. She felt scared that Khan would notice how her body was reacting.
Khan poured more oil and started working on her lower back, right above her hips. His thumbs pressed firmly into the dimples there, making slow, deep circles. Swati’s hips moved slightly without her permission. A small, soft sound escaped her lips — “Mmm…” She immediately felt embarrassed and pressed her face deeper into the pillow.
Her heartbeat was racing again. “This is wrong… I should tell him to stop,” she thought. But the warm oil and his strong hands felt too good. The constant arousal from the powder made her pussy wet and throbbing. She was scared of how much she was enjoying it.
Khan’s hands became bolder. He poured warm oil directly onto the upper part of her buttocks. The liquid felt hot as it trickled slowly down between her ass cheeks, teasing her tight rear hole and then dripping onto her smooth, swollen pussy lips. Swati’s body trembled with hot shyness. She felt completely exposed. Her round buttocks were now fully visible, shining with oil.
“Khan… only back…” she whispered in a shaky, shy voice, but it sounded weak even to her own ears.
Khan did not stop. His large, strong hands started massaging her ass cheeks with deep, kneading motions. He squeezed the soft, oily flesh gently but firmly, spreading her cheeks apart with every stroke. Swati’s shyness reached its peak. She felt so embarrassed that a servant was touching her most private areas. Her face was burning hot. Her heartbeat was so fast now that her chest rose and fell rapidly against the bed.
But her body was betraying her badly. Fresh wetness leaked from her hairless pussy, mixing with the oil. Her deep oval navel rubbed against the sheet every time her hips moved slightly. Her soft underarms felt damp with nervous sweat.
Khan poured more oil and let it drip straight onto her most sensitive parts. One of his thick thumbs began making slow circles around her tight asshole, while two fingers of his other hand gently rubbed along her wet pussy lips. Swati’s legs trembled. She felt scared, shy, and incredibly aroused all at once.
“Memsaab… your body is very tense here,” Khan said in a low, husky voice. “Let me help you relax completely.”
Swati’s mind was in complete dilemma. One part of her — the proud, dominating tigress — wanted to shout at him and run away. She kept thinking, “I am married. I am powerful. How can I let my driver do this?” But the other part — the hungry woman who had never been fully satisfied by Vamsi’s small cock — was desperate for more. The shyness made everything feel even hotter. She felt like a naughty girl doing something very bad, and that thought made her even wetter.
Her chest was heaving faster now. Her full breasts moved up and down with every nervous breath. Her deep oval navel tightened and relaxed with the tension. She was scared that if she spoke, her voice would come out as a moan.
Khan’s fingers slowly parted her slick pussy lips. One thick finger gently pushed inside her wet entrance. Swati gasped loudly into the pillow. The feeling was so intense — his finger was much thicker than Vamsi’s cock. She felt stretched and filled in a way she had never felt before.
“Ohh…” she moaned softly, unable to stop herself.
Khan added a second finger and began moving them slowly in and out, curling them to touch that sensitive spot inside her. His other thumb continued gentle circles around her asshole, teasing but not entering. The wet, slippery sounds of oil and her juices filled the quiet room.
Swati’s entire body was on fire with hot shyness. She felt embarrassed that her driver could see and feel how wet she was. Her heartbeat kept racing and slowing, making her chest rise and fall dramatically. Tears of shame and pleasure pricked her eyes, but she didn’t want him to stop.
Khan leaned closer. His hot breath touched her ear as he whispered, “Memsaab… you are so beautiful… so wet… Let me take care of all this tension tonight. No one will know.”
Swati’s mind screamed one last time: “Stop! You are the tigress!”
But her body answered by pushing her hips back slightly against his fingers. Her shyness made her hide her face deeper in the pillow, but her legs slowly parted a little more, silently asking for more.
The proud Assistant CEO was lying there — head to toe covered in warm oil, body trembling with fear, shyness, and overwhelming desire — while her servant’s strong hands explored every inch of her.
Her deep oval navel, soft underarms, full breasts, round ass, and dripping pussy were all under his touch now.
And Swati, trapped between fierce pride and burning hunger, could only moan softly into the pillow as the massage slowly turned into something much more dangerous and addictive.


To be continued.....