Adultery The Making of a Slut from a Wife - Shazia

[HotLove339]

Iqbal felt his heart skip a violent beat. The twisted, arrogant pride he had felt with the poor waiter instantly collided with a massive, suffocating wave of severe, toxic jealousy. The waiter was a nobody—a peasant he could control. But Rohan was wealthy, young, handsome, and physically imposing. Looking at the gleaming Rolex on Rohan's wrist and his designer clothes, Iqbal felt incredibly intimidated. However, desperately not wanting to look like a weak, insecure loser in front of this rich alpha male, and trying to mask the boiling anger inside his gut, Iqbal forced a confident, broad, fake smile onto his face.
 
"Toh, aap kya karti hain?" (So, what do you do?) Rohan asked, leaning slightly closer, resting his thick, muscular arm on the table, invading her space.
 
"Main…?” pausing with some reluctance to reveal the fact, “Kuch nahi, bas ek housewife hoon," (Me? Nothing, just a housewife,) Shazia smiled coyly, playing with the edge of her sheer pallu, shifting her son on her lap.
 
Rohan raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in mock surprise. "Housewife? Toh aapke paas toh kaafi free time hoga phir?" (Housewife? So you must have a lot of free time then?) He smiled, the filthy, indirect implication—that she had plenty of time to spend in bed with him—hanging heavily in the air between them.
 
Shazia had thought that he would undervalue her knowing that she was just a housewife, but seeing that he took it to his advantage, she let out a bright, flirtatious laugh, completely leaning into the seductive game. "Free time? Arey nahi! Ghar ka kaam aur bacchon ko sambhalne mein poora din nikal jaata hai. Kisi ko andaza bhi nahi hai." (Free time? Oh no! Doing housework and taking care of the kids takes up the whole day. No one even has an idea.)
 
While she was saying this, her younger son, Ayaan, who was sitting on her lap, was playing with his brother opposite the table. He tried to slip down from her saree, struggling to free himself from his mother’s control and move to him. The boy’s squirming struggle on his mother’s lap made her sheer saree pallu slip completely and fall loosely from her shoulder.
 
"Ayaan, kya kar rahe ho..." (Ayaan, what are you doing...) she said, trying to control him. But the boy was forcefully pulling himself away from her, saying, "Bhaiya ke paas jaunga." (I will go to brother.)
 
Bending down slightly, she let go of him. Still holding the boy’s hand with one hand, she supported him walking to the chair of his brother on the opposite side of table. "Ab chup chap baitho, pareshan math karna," (Now sit quietly, don't disturb,) she said to the boy, before changing her gaze back toward Rohan.
 
Rohan smirked darkly. His eyes had dropped instantly to the massive, ample cleavage between the heaving swell of her breast mounds, violently straining against the low-cut blouse now that the saree fabric shield was gone.
 

 
Shazia realized her saree pallu had fallen, exposing her breasts to the rich man. She quickly repositioned it on her shoulder and smiled at Rohan. In an incredibly naughty, suggestive manner, she said, "Dekha na?" (See?) Pausing for a second, deliberately leaving the dirty double meaning linger in the air—referring both to her naughty child and her exposed cleavage—she continued, "Bachein ko sambhalna kitna mushkil hai." (How difficult it is to handle children.)
As Shazia covered herself with the sheer pallu and moved her fleshy ass on the chair, making herself more comfortable, Rohan looked up directly into her eyes and replied smoothly, "Haan dekh liya maine..." (Yes, I saw it...) and returned her naughty smile back to her.
 
After a brief pause, Rohan continued, "Par main nahi maanta. Aap jaisi khoobsurat aurat ko apne liye waqt toh nikalna hi chahiye. Din mein ek ghanta toh aap chura hi sakti hain... apne khaas shauk ke liye. Am I right?" (But I don't believe it. A beautiful woman like you must make time for herself. You can definitely steal an hour in the day... for your special hobbies. Am I right?)
 
Continuing to speak directly to Shazia, completely isolating her husband, he added, "Aur agar mein sach kahun toh, aisi saadi aur aise husn ke saamne koi bhi apna hosh kho baithega." (And if I have to tell you the truth, in front of such a saree and such beauty, anyone would lose their senses.)
 
Shazia bit her glossy lower lip, her cheeks flushing hot with pure arousal. She loved the filthy, wealthy attention. She glanced at Iqbal, seeing his forced, stiff smile. She completely misinterpreted his competitive facade as his silent, cuckold approval for her exhibitionism. Feeling totally confident and empowered, she shifted her weight on the chair, deliberately pushing her fleshy ass out slightly against the seat, maximizing her voluptuous curves. While doing so, her saree pallu slipped down to her arms for Rohan's benefit.
 
Her eyes magnetically fluttered back to Rohan's handsome face. "Aapko baatein banana bahut achhe se aata hai," (You know very well how to make up things/flirt.) Shazia giggled softly, lowering her eyelashes in a coy, explicitly slutty tease.