Adultery The Strict wife Swati's humiliation and Submission

[Suresh@123]

Khan stayed buried deep inside Swati for a long moment after her second powerful orgasm. His thick 9-inch cock pulsed inside her stretched, clenching pussy. Her juices soaked his shaft and balls. Swati’s body still trembled under him, face half-buried in the pillow, oily skin glistening under the dim light.
He leaned over her back, his broad chest pressing against her, and whispered near her ear:
“Memsaab… how does it feel having your driver’s big cock so deep inside you?”
Swati’s voice came out shaky and soft, full of leftover pleasure and lingering shame.
“It… it feels so full… so thick… I’ve never felt anything like this… Vamsi never reaches this deep…”
Khan slowly pulled almost all the way out until only the fat head remained inside her, then thrust back in with one long, deliberate stroke. Swati moaned loudly.
“Does that mean you prefer this cock more than your husband’s?” he asked, starting a slow, deep rhythm again.
She hesitated for a second, then answered in a small, broken voice:
“Yes… yes, I prefer yours… it’s bigger… thicker… please don’t stop…”
He kept the pace slow and teasing, each thrust long and measured. His strong hands gripped her oily hips and pulled her back to meet every stroke. The wet, obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out filled the quiet room.
“Look at you, Memsaab,” he teased, “the proud Assistant CEO, on all fours taking her driver’s cock like a good girl. Say my name while I fuck you.”
“Khan… Khan…” she moaned, pushing her ass back. “Fuck me harder, Khan…”
He increased the speed. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts. Swati’s full breasts swung with every impact. Her deep oval navel rubbed against the sheets. Her soft underarms were damp with sweat and oil.
After several minutes of hard doggy-style fucking, Khan suddenly pulled out completely. Swati whimpered at the sudden emptiness.
“Turn over,” he ordered softly. “I want to see your face while I fuck you.”
Swati slowly rolled onto her back. Her face was flushed deep red, eyes glassy with lust and leftover shyness. Her short nightie was bunched around her waist. Her 36-size breasts rose and fell rapidly, pinkish areolas tight and hard. Her smooth, hairless pussy was swollen and shiny with oil and her own juices.
Khan climbed between her legs, placed the thick head of his cock at her entrance again, and pushed in slowly while looking into her eyes.
Swati’s mouth opened in a long moan as he filled her again. “Ahhh… so big…”
He started thrusting in missionary position — deep, steady, and powerful. One of his hands pinned both her wrists above her head. The other hand caressed her oily body — squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, tracing her deep oval navel.
“Does it feel better when you look at me, Memsaab?” he asked, never stopping his deep strokes.
“Yes… looking at you makes it hotter… more intense…” she admitted, her voice trembling.
“Do you still want me to stop?”
She shook her head quickly. “No… don’t stop… please keep going…”
He fucked her harder. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Swati’s moans grew louder and more shameless with every thrust.
After a long round in missionary, Khan pulled out again and sat back on his heels.
“Come sit on it,” he said, his thick cock standing tall and glistening.
Swati hesitated only a second before climbing onto his lap. She guided the massive head to her entrance and slowly sank down, taking every thick inch inside her. Her head fell back as she bottomed out.
“Ohhh God… it’s so deep this way…” she gasped.
Khan held her hips and let her adjust. Then he asked:
“Who is fucking you right now, Memsaab?”
“You… Khan… my driver…” she answered, starting to move up and down slowly.
“And who do you belong to right now?”
Swati’s face burned with shame, but she rode him faster. “You… tonight I belong to you…”
He thrust upward to meet her movements, making her breasts bounce. One of his hands reached between them and rubbed her clit while she rode him. The dual stimulation quickly built another orgasm.
“I’m going to cum again… Khan…” she cried.
“Cum on my cock,” he ordered.
She came hard, her pussy squeezing tightly around him, juices flowing down his shaft. Her moans turned into broken cries of “Khan… Khan… so good…”
Before she fully recovered, he flipped her onto her side and entered her from behind in a spooning position. One of his strong arms wrapped around her waist, the other held her thigh up so he could thrust deeper.
“Do you like this position, Memsaab?” he whispered against her neck, kissing and lightly biting her soft underarm.
“Yes… it feels so intimate… so deep…” she moaned, pushing her ass back against him.
He fucked her slowly and deeply for a long time in this position, whispering dirty questions:
“Are you going to think about my cock when you sit in the car tomorrow?”
“Yes…”
“Are you going to get wet remembering how it stretched you?”
“Yes… I’m already wet just thinking about it…”
“Will you still scold me like before, or will you remember who made you scream?”
Swati’s answer came out as a moan: “I’ll remember… I’ll remember everything…”
After several more minutes he pulled out, turned her onto her back again, and lifted both her legs high onto his shoulders. In this deep position he slammed into her harder than before. The angle made his thick cock rub directly against her G-spot with every thrust.
Swati’s eyes rolled back. “Too deep… it’s too deep… but don’t stop… please don’t stop…”
He kept the hard pace, asking between thrusts:
“Who is better — me or your husband?”
“You… only you…”
“Say it louder.”
“Khan is better! Your cock is better! Please fuck me harder!”
Her third massive orgasm crashed through her body. She screamed and shook violently, her pussy milking his cock. Khan held her legs tightly and continued thrusting through the orgasm until she was a trembling, moaning mess.
Finally he pulled out, stroked his thick, glistening cock a few times, and came hard across her oily stomach and breasts, thick ropes of cum marking her body.
Both of them breathed heavily. Swati lay there covered in oil, sweat, and his cum, her legs still weakly open, her face a mixture of satisfaction, shame, and exhausted desire.
Khan leaned down and kissed her forehead gently.
“Round one is over, Memsaab,” he said with a dark smile. “There will be more before morning.”
Swati looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, still breathing hard, and whispered:
“I know… and I already want more…”














one of his strong fingers, slick with oil and her juices, moved to the entrance of her ass.
He did not push inside.
He only circled the tight, sensitive rim—slowly, deliberately, teasingly.
The moment the tip of his finger brushed that forbidden place, Swati’s entire body jerked hard.
“Ahhh—!” she gasped, her hips jumping forward instinctively. Her eyes flew open wide. A sharp, electric shock of new sensation shot through her. Her deep oval navel tightened against the sheets. Her full breasts heaved.
Khan kept thrusting into her pussy with steady, deep strokes while his finger continued the slow, wicked circling around her ass entrance. He never pressed hard enough to enter—only teased the tight ring, spreading warm oil over it, making it slick and sensitive.
Swati’s mind spun.
What is he doing? That place… no one has ever touched me there…







Her body, however, betrayed her. Every time his finger made another slow circle, her pussy clenched harder around his thick cock. Fresh wetness flooded out of her. Her breathing turned ragged.
Khan leaned over her back, his deep voice low and commanding near her ear.
“Turn over. Get on all fours.”
Swati froze for a second, still impaled on his cock. Confusion mixed with the overwhelming pleasure.
“Why…?” she whispered, her voice shaky. “Why all fours again?”
Khan’s finger pressed a little more firmly against her ass entrance—still not entering, just applying steady, teasing pressure—while his cock gave her a hard, deep thrust.
“It’s my order,” he said, his voice calm but absolute. “You should obey your master now. Turn on all fours.”
The words hit her like a wave. Master. The proud Assistant CEO, the woman who dominated boardrooms and her husband, was being ordered by her driver. Her mind shivered. Shame and a dark, forbidden excitement crashed together inside her.
Hesitantly, trembling, Swati pulled forward off his cock. The sudden emptiness made her whimper. Slowly, almost shyly, she rose onto her hands and knees. Her round, oily ass lifted high. Her smooth, hairless pussy was fully exposed and glistening. Her full breasts hung and swayed beneath her. Her face burned with heat.
Khan moved behind her. For a long moment he just looked at the perfect view—her arched back, the deep curve of her waist, the shiny, open cheeks of her ass, the swollen pink lips of her cunt still dripping from his cock.
Then he gave her a wicked smile she could not see, but she could feel it in the air.
He leaned down.
Instead of putting his cock back inside her, he brought his face close to her ass.
The first touch of his sharp, hot tongue against her tight asshole made Swati cry out.
“Hhhmmmmm—!”
The sensation was completely new. Wet, warm, intimate, and shocking. Khan’s tongue circled the sensitive ring slowly, teasingly, deliberately. He licked with long, firm strokes, then flicked the tip lightly over the entrance, then pressed flat and dragged upward.
Swati’s arms nearly gave out. Her body jerked hard with every pass of his tongue.
“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh…!” she moaned, the sound long and broken.
















Khan kept the teasing slow and merciless. He did not rush. He licked her ass with patient, wicked skill—circling, pressing, swirling—while his hands held her hips steady so she could not escape the intense new feeling.
At the same time, one of his fingers slid under her and found the swollen, sensitive bud of her clit. He began rubbing it in slow, firm circles, matching the rhythm of his tongue on her ass.
Now pleasure came from both sides at once.
Swati’s mind went blank.
Her eyes half-closed on their own. Her eyeballs rolled back under the lids. Her mouth fell open. The dual stimulation—the wet, circling tongue on her asshole and the skilled finger rubbing her clit—drove her into pure madness.
“Hhhmmmmm… aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh… my God… my God…” she moaned loudly, her voice rising with every second.



















Her hips started moving without her control—pushing back against his tongue, then grinding forward against his finger. Her deep oval navel tightened and released rapidly. Her full breasts swung with every desperate movement. Sweat mixed with the oil on her soft underarms and back.
Khan lifted his mouth just enough to speak, his breath hot against her wet, teased ass.
“Did your husband ever do this to you, Memsaab?”
Swati’s answer came out as a broken, shameless moan.
“No… never… never… Vamsi never… touched me there… never licked me there… ahhhhh…”
Khan smiled against her skin and returned his tongue to her asshole with even more intensity. He circled faster, pressed firmer, licked deeper while his finger on her clit sped up, rubbing the swollen bud in tight, perfect circles.
Swati was completely lost.
“It’s nice… it’s so nice… my God… don’t stop… please don’t stop…” she cried, her voice high and desperate. “Khan… what are you doing to me… I’m going mad… ahhhhh…”
Her arms shook. Her knees trembled. The dual pleasure was too much. Every nerve in her body felt like it was on fire. The forbidden sensation on her ass mixed with the intense rubbing of her clit created a pleasure so strong it bordered on torture.