Adultery Ananya - My beautiful wife

[kirak9484]

Rajesh sat rigid in the chair, the front of his trousers stretched tight around a painful, continuous erection.
The wet sounds coming through the speakers had grown filthier and more rhythmic with every passing minute. Soft, muffled “hmmmm… hmmmph… ahhh…” moans had started earlier, but they were no longer soft. They climbed steadily, each one louder and more broken than the last, until the entire study seemed filled with the unmistakable soundtrack of a married woman being used without restraint.
He could hear everything.
The wet, sliding noise of a thick cock moving in and out of a soft mouth.
The softer, wetter sound of a tongue working between open thighs.
The sharp, helpless female cries that kept rising higher.
His cock throbbed so hard it ached. A dark, damp spot had already spread across the front of his pants. He pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge, not to hide it — there was no one else in the room — but because the pressure was the only thing keeping him from making a sound of his own.
How can a married woman make these kinds of noises?
The question looped in his head without mercy. In their entire married life Ananya had never once sounded like this. Soft sighs, quiet gasps, the occasional restrained whimper when he managed to bring her close — that was the limit. She always kept control. She always stayed modest even in the dark. The woman on the other side of the glass was doing none of those things. Her moans were open, continuous, and growing louder with every wet thrust and every stroke of tongue.
Rajesh’s mind split cleanly into two warring halves.
One side rejected everything he was hearing.
Ananya would never allow this. She would never open her mouth like that. She would never spread her legs and cry out while another man licked her. She is conservative. She is mine. She would rather die than make these sounds.
The other side was darker and far more dangerous.
But what if…
What if Rohan ever took her?
What if that thick cock he saw earlier pushed inside Ananya’s soft, married body?
Would she moan the same way? Would her voice break like this? Would she forget every rule and cry out the same filthy, helpless sounds?
The second set of thoughts made his cock jerk violently. He imagined Ananya on her knees, lips stretched around that heavy length, eyes wet, soft “hmmmm” moans vibrating around the shaft while another man ate her from behind. The image was so clear it hurt. He tried to push it away. It only returned stronger.










The moans on the speakers climbed another notch.
“Hmmmm—! Ahhhh… hmmmph… nnhhh… ahhhh…!”
Rajesh’s breathing turned shallow. His hand rubbed harder over the bulge in his trousers. He was no longer simply listening; he was accompanying the sounds with his own secret, shameful arousal. Every louder cry from the unknown married woman fed the forbidden question that would not leave him:
If it was Ananya… would she sound exactly like this?
One side of his heart answered immediately and firmly: No. Never. She is not capable of these sounds.
The other side whispered back: But what if she was made to? What if someone stronger, thicker, more relentless than you opened her properly? What if just one time…
The internal argument left him dizzy. His cock leaked steadily. The wet spot on his trousers grew. He stared at the one-way glass that still looked like an ordinary mirror, wishing he could see through it, wishing he could confirm the woman making those escalating cries was a stranger and not the soft-spoken wife waiting for him at home.
The wet sounds intensified. The muffled moans around the cock grew higher and more continuous. The wet licking between her legs became louder and more focused. Rajesh could almost map the acts in his mind: mouth being fucked hard, cunt being eaten thoroughly, a married body trembling between two men. His own hips shifted restlessly in the chair.
Then the volume suddenly exploded.
A raw, full-throated, completely unrestrained scream tore through the speakers and slammed into him like a physical blow.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh—! Hhhhhhhhhhhhh—! Margayiiiiii—!”
Rajesh shot to his feet so fast the chair scbangd loudly across the floor.
His heart hammered against his ribs. The scream was pure overload — long, shaking, almost sobbing in its intensity. It was the sound of a woman pushed past every limit, past dignity, past control. His cock throbbed so hard he had to press both hands against it. He stared at the connecting door, breathing hard, every muscle tensed.
Who is she?
What are they doing to her to make her scream like that?
And why does that voice still brush against the memory of Ananya’s rare soft gasps?







He took one involuntary step toward the door, then stopped. The professional part of his mind — the part that still believed this was only a colleague’s private entertainment — held him back. He remained standing, fully erect, trousers tented and damp, listening to the aftermath of that massive cry: the wetter, faster sounds of continued fucking, the broken residual moans, the low male voices murmuring satisfaction.
Poor Rajesh stood there in the bright study, cock aching, mind split, heart racing, completely unaware that the woman whose scream had just driven him to his feet was his own conservative, soft-spoken wife — currently on her knees with one thick cock stretching her mouth and another man’s tongue buried in her married cunt only a few feet away.
The wet sounds and rising moans continued without pause, and Rajesh, still standing, still rock-hard, could only listen and wonder how any married woman could be made to cry out so completely… and whether the quiet woman who shared his bed was truly incapable of the same sounds, or whether she had simply never been opened far enough to release them.




On the other side of the one-way glass, Rohan and Vicky were still buried deep inside Ananya — one thick cock stretching her mouth, the other working her soaked cunt — when they both glanced toward the study.
Rajesh stood rigid in full view, the front of his trousers obscenely tented, a dark wet spot already visible. The outline of his average cock strained hard against the fabric. Both men saw it clearly. Both men laughed, low and satisfied, while they continued to use Ananya’s body. The wet sounds of fucking and her muffled, continuous moans only made the moment sweeter. They had him. The bulge was proof.
Vicky pulled out of Ananya’s cunt with a wet sound, wiped his glistening cock once on her thigh, and walked naked toward the connecting door. He opened it, stepped through into the study, and closed it behind him with a soft click.
Rajesh’s head snapped up.
The sight that met him made the air leave his lungs. Vicky stood completely nude only a few feet away — broad chest, hard stomach, and a thick, heavily veined cock still half-hard and shiny with Ananya’s juices. It was not quite as long as Rohan’s eleven inches, but the girth was brutal, the shaft ridged with prominent veins that looked almost angry. Rajesh had already seen Rohan’s massive length earlier. Now the second one stood in front of him in the flesh. His mind reeled.
So big… both of them so big… no wonder that woman is screaming like that…
His own five-inch cock throbbed painfully inside his wet trousers. He could not look away from the thick, veined shaft. A dark, humiliating fascination mixed with pure panic.
Vicky gave an easy, almost embarrassed smile, as if walking naked into a colleague’s space was a minor inconvenience.
“Sorry, Rajesh. Hurry-berry, I forgot to wear at least underwear. Will you please help me?”
Rajesh’s mind went blank. His voice came out weak and cracked.
“Whh… what… Sir? What…?”
Vicky laughed lightly, the sound casual and friendly.
“Not much. Just hand over that lube near the desk… beside the sofa.”
Rajesh’s eyes darted to the side table. A small bottle of clear lubricant sat there exactly where Vicky had indicated. His hands shook as he stepped over, picked it up, and held it out.
“Sir… is it… this?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
Vicky took the bottle. Instead of turning back immediately, he stayed facing Rajesh for a moment longer, still completely naked, the heavy cock hanging between his thighs. Then he spoke in a conversational tone that landed like a series of precise blows.
“This married bitch is doing so much nakhrā. Her husband is a useless fellow — never fucked her properly. That’s why her holes are still so tight. Her ass is completely virgin. The useless husband doesn’t even know how to worship a beautiful woman in sex.”
Each sentence struck Rajesh directly.
Useless fellow.
Never fucked her properly.
Doesn’t know how to worship a beautiful woman.
The words were about the “friend’s wife,” but the mirror was impossible to ignore. His face burned. His cock, already hard, gave another strong, shameful pulse. He felt the indirect slap land deep in his chest.
In a slow, almost unwilling voice, Rajesh asked the question that had formed the moment he saw the lube.
“That means… it is being used there…?”
Vicky’s smile turned openly cunning. He flipped the bottle once in his hand.
“Yes, Rajesh. Her asshole will be lubricated… and fucked.”
The confirmation hit Rajesh like a physical blow.....











In a slow, almost unwilling voice, Rajesh asked the question that had formed the moment he saw the lube.
“That means… it is being used there…?”
Vicky’s smile turned openly cunning. He flipped the bottle once in his hand.
“Yes, Rajesh. Her asshole will be lubricated… and fucked.”
The confirmation hit Rajesh like a physical blow.
His mind filled with the impossible image of those two massive, thickly veined cocks pushing into a tight, virgin ass. The woman whose screams had already driven him mad was about to be opened in the one place even more intimate and resistant. He could almost hear the cries that would follow. His own cock leaked another thick pulse of pre-cum into his already damp trousers.
He could not speak. He only nodded once, eyes still fixed on the heavy shaft between Vicky’s legs, then turned and walked back to the chair on unsteady legs. He sat down heavily and pulled the door of the study closed with a soft click, sealing himself inside with the speakers still live and the knowledge of what was about to happen only a few feet away.
On the other side of the glass, Vicky walked naked back into the bedroom, lube in hand, while Rohan continued to fuck Ananya’s mouth with slow, deep strokes. Both men glanced once more at the clear bulge in Rajesh’s trousers and shared another quiet, satisfied laugh.
The next stage was about to begin, and the husband sitting on the other side of the glass already knew exactly where the thick cock was headed...




Rohan reached for a soft black blindfold and slipped it over Ananya’s eyes, tying it firmly behind her head. The world went dark. Her breathing quickened. She felt him guide her arms upward until her fingers wrapped around the wooden bedposts.
“Hold them. Don’t let go.”
Ananya gripped the posts tightly, naked body stretched and completely exposed. Her full breasts rose and fell with rapid breaths. Between her thighs she was still soaked and sensitive from everything that had already been done to her.
The connecting door opened quietly.
Payal stepped into the bedroom. Her eyes moved slowly, greedily, over Ananya’s blindfolded form — the soft, heavy breasts, the gentle curve of her waist and tummy, the wet, glistening cunt still slightly open and dripping. Payal had wanted this body for a long time. Seeing Ananya like this, restrained, blind, and already used, sent a dark thrill through her.
Vicky’s voice was calm and permissive.
“Do whatever you want.”
Payal needed no further invitation.










She climbed onto the bed with deliberate, seductive movements and began at Ananya’s neck, letting her soft lips and tongue trail downward. Ananya shivered hard at the unfamiliar, feminine touch. Payal’s hands followed — cupping and squeezing the full breasts, rolling the still-sensitive nipples, sliding over the soft stomach, dipping briefly into the navel. Every place she touched seemed chosen with perfect knowledge of a woman’s weak points. Ananya’s breathing turned into soft, continuous whimpers.
“Ahhhh… nnhhh… who… what are you… ahhh…”
Payal moved lower. Vicky and Rohan each took one of Ananya’s ankles and spread her legs wide, holding them open so she could not close them. The cool air touched her soaked folds. Then Payal bent between those soft thighs and dragged her tongue slowly through Ananya’s dripping slit.
Ananya’s entire body jerked.
“Ahhhhhaaaaa—! Ohhhh Goddddd…!”
Payal licked her with long, thorough strokes, parting the swollen labia, circling the clit, pushing her tongue inside, then returning to suck the sensitive bud. At the same time two of her slender fingers slid into Ananya’s cunt and began to stroke the front wall with precise, knowing pressure. Ananya’s cries rose immediately, louder and more broken than before.
“Ahhhh… ahhhaaa… ohhhh Goddddd… what are you doing to me… please… ahhhhh… I can’t…!”
Her fingers clenched hard around the bedposts. Her back arched. Clear juices ran down over Payal’s hand and chin. The wet sounds of a woman’s tongue and fingers working another woman’s cunt filled the room. Rohan stood to the side with his phone raised, calmly recording video and taking clear photographs of every moment — Ananya’s blindfolded face, her open mouth crying out, her spread legs, Payal’s head buried between her thighs....
















In the adjacent study Rajesh sat with his trousers open, cock in hand, stroking in time with the escalating female cries. The moans were higher and more continuous than ever. He still told himself it could not be Ananya, yet every rising scream brushed against the memory of his wife’s rare soft gasps until the two voices blurred in his mind. His fist moved faster.
On the bed Ananya was losing control completely.
“Ahhhhhaaa… nooooo… I can’t take more pleasure… ahhhhh… ohhhh Goddddd… I’m going to… ahhhhh—!”
Her body went rigid. Legs shook violently in Vicky and Rohan’s grip. A long, raw scream tore from her throat as the orgasm crashed through her. Clear fluid squirted in strong pulses directly onto Payal’s waiting tongue and face. Payal kept licking and fingering her through every wave, drawing the climax out until Ananya’s screams turned into broken, sobbing moans and her body collapsed against the mattress, still twitching.
The three of them — Rohan, Vicky, and Payal — stood over her spent form with open satisfaction. They had left her ass untouched this time, focusing everything on her cunt and the overwhelming female-driven orgasm they had forced from her. Rohan checked the clear video and photos on his phone, then nodded.
Nearly five hours had passed since Ananya first entered the room.
Rohan finally spoke.
“You can leave.”
Ananya’s hands were released. She pulled the blindfold off with trembling fingers. Her eyes were red and wet, her body marked with sweat, spit, and the evidence of multiple climaxes. She dressed slowly and with visible difficulty — every movement reminded her how thoroughly she had been used. When she was finally covered she was led to the back door. A driver was already waiting. She left without looking back, legs unsteady, the phantom sensation of tongues and fingers still pulsing between her thighs.
A few minutes later Rohan and Vicky came downstairs, both still bare-chested, skin marked with sweat and the scent of sex. Rajesh stood in the lower hallway, trousers still tented, face flushed, unable to hide how hard he remained.
Vicky looked at him with a small, knowing smile.
“You can leave now, Rajesh. But before you go… think about your wife.”
Rajesh opened his mouth, found no words, and walked out of the building in silence. The wet sounds, the rising female screams, the image of a married woman squirting onto another woman’s face, and the final suggestion about Ananya followed him into the evening air like a poison he could no longer dilute.
Behind him, the two men watched him go, already satisfied with how deeply the afternoon had worked on both husband and wife.....


To be continued