Adultery The Making of a Slut from a Wife - Shazia

[HotLove339]

Part 3: Digital Pleasure
On Friday, after her bath, Shazia deliberately dressed herself in a rich green silk saree and a tight matching blouse to click some photos and post. She selected a few flattering angles that emphasized her curves and posted pictures of herself in the green saree. She waited, her heart, a frantic drum against her ribs as she particularly waited for Vikram’s message. She checked the phone off and on, watching the likes increase rapidly. About half an hour later, his reply lit up her screen.
 
Vickie_Photos: Wow... just wow.
Vickie_Photos: Looking like a queen, Shazia.
A warm, highly pleasant thrill spread through her chest. She smiled, feeling a massive surge of feminine pride.
Shazia: Thank you ?
Shazia: Yeh toh purana hai, koi naya nahi. (This is old, nothing new.)
Vickie_Photos: Purana? Arey pagal mat bano. Lag toh ekdum naya dekh rahi ho. (Old? Don't be crazy. You look completely brand new.)
Vickie_Photos: Sach mein yaar. Tumhara husband bahut kismat waala hai. Kaash main bhi kismat wala hotha. (Really yaar. Your husband is very lucky. Wish I was lucky too.)
The familiar line about Iqbal came up, but this time, it didn't make her feel guilty or restricted. It made her feel incredibly powerful.
Shazia: Tum bhi kam nahi ? Girlfriends honge na tumhare. (You are no less. ? You must be having girlfriends.)
Vickie_Photos: Kam nahi? Arrey, hai ek do dost jaise bas. Koi khas nahi. Aur tumhari jaise tho koi nahi. Agar tumhare jaisi maal mere saath hoti toh main kamre se bahar hi nahi nikalta. (Not less? Yes, there are a couple of them just as friends. Nothing special. And none like you. If I had a piece of ass like you with me, I wouldn't even step out of the room.)
 
She giggled, biting her glossy lower lip, knowing the conversation was taking a delicious, dangerous turn.
Shazia: ? Itni bakwas mat karo. (Don't say such nonsense.)
Vickie_Photos: Bakwas nahi, sach keh raha hoon. Lekin ek baat hai... (Not nonsense, I am telling the truth. But there is one thing...)
Vickie_Photos: Iss photo me tumhari cleavage thoda chhota lag raha hai. (In this photo, your cleavage looks a little small.)
 
The dare was playful, highly teasing. Shazia felt a familiar, delightful wet heat begin to pool in her stomach and between her thighs.
Shazia: Chhota? ? (Small? ?)
Vickie_Photos: Haan chhota. Shayad camera angle ki wajah se. Ek aur photo send karo jisme wo saaf dikhe. Please? (Yes, small. Maybe because of the camera angle. Send another pic where it looks clearer. Please?)
 
She couldn't help but laugh out loud. It felt like an erotic game, a fun, flirty challenge where she was in absolute control. Her fingers flew across the keyboard on her mobile.
Shazia: Accha ji, jaisi aapki marzi. Abhi bhejte hain. Par just ek. (Okay, as you wish. Sending it now. But just one.)
 
She walked to the mirror, her movements now fueled by a dark, deliberate excitement. She let the silk pallu slide completely away, and loosened the neckline of the blouse. She violently adjusted her breast lumps inside her tight blouse such that the pale, massive globes almost spilled entirely out, her deep cleavage exposed to the maximum edge of the blouse. She snapped the picture and sent it, her heart pounding with a potent cocktail of traditional shame and overwhelming naughtiness.
 
His reply was a storm of short, frantic messages.
Vickie_Photos: Hai Ram. (Oh God.)
Vickie_Photos: Yehi baat hai. (This is it.)
Vickie_Photos: Dekho inko. Kya mast gol hai. (Look at them. How amazingly rounded they are.)
Vickie_Photos: Mujhe inhein choosne ki zaroorat hai. (I need to suck on these.)
 
Shazia gasped softly, a hand flying to her mouth, her nipples instantly hardening into stiff peaks against the silk. His language had changed, becoming raw, visceral, and explicitly sexual. But it wasn't scary; it was incredibly thrilling.
 
Shazia: Vikram! Itna ganda kyu bolte ho? (Vikram! Why do you talk so dirty?)
Vickie_Photos: Ganda nahi hai, sach hai. (It's not dirty, it's the truth.)
Vickie_Photos: Tumhare saath aise hi naughty baat karne ka mann haii (I feel like taking in this naughty manner only with you)
Vickie_Photos: Ab saree bhi utaar do na. Pura. (Now take off the saree too. Completely.)
 
The demand was direct, but still playful. Shazia felt a massive surge of power. He wanted her. He wanted her naked body so badly he couldn't stop typing.
Vickie_Photos: Bas ek aur bina saadi ka. (Just one more without the saree.)
Shazia: Nahi nahi, sharm aa rahi hai. Phir kabhi. (No no, I'm feeling shy. Some other time.)
Vickie_Photos: Arrey sharm kis baat ki? Jisme itni khoobsurti ho, usme sharam nahi hoti. (Oh why feel shy? When there is so much beauty in you, there should be no shyness.)
Vickie_Photos: Please na meri jaan... ek baar toh dekh loon aapko. (Please, my love... let me see you just once.)
 
The "Meri jaan" made her melt completely. She was lost to the thrill. Removing her silk saree entirely, she stood only in her petticoat and the blouse. She felt so exposed, so incredibly vulnerable, and so unbelievably alive. She took the picture, this time one hand deliberately placed on her wide hip, pushing it out slightly to emphasize her figure, a playful, slutty smirk on her face. She sent it.